Shadow Warrior
by KiyaJinnSkywalkerKenobi
Summary: Jedi Lasson Greenleaf, AKA Obi-Wan Kenobi, is not normal in any sense of the word. That is proven when the Force and the Valar throw him into Middle Earth: which, as he comes to find out, is his birthplace. Will the Elf Assassin ever accept his true heritage, or will he continue to hide in the shadows and kill enemies, hiding from his immortal kin? Inspired by All That Remains
1. Chapter 1

**firstly, I would like to mention that this is a Star Wars crossover. secondly, I would like to say that THIS IS NOT A PLAGIARIZED VERSION OF SKYLEAFALCHEMIST19'S ALL THAT REMAINS! I have PM'd her and she has approved that i use her idea. in that case, please read on and enjoy! R&R apreciated...**

Chapter 1

Death. The halls reeked of it and the Force shuddered in grief and pain. Obi-Wan Kenobi grimaced inwardly as he shielded his mind farther to prevent too much from entering his mind.

The Force was like a black whirlpool in this building, he decided grimly, everything spiraling and being sucked into a hole of the nothingness of the dark side of the Force. Of pain, and suffering, and wailing, and grief, and hatred- he stopped himself from going any farther.

The Jedi do not hate, for hatred leads to pain, and pain leads to suffering, and suffering leads to the dark side of the Force. It was a morass of pure hatred, consuming all light and longing for it and yet hating it for its brightness; for without out the light it would not exist. Without light there is no darkness- but without the darkness there is also no light.

He walked along the shadows of the hallways, hiding himself in the dark spots and sneaking along the sides of the buildings, always reaching out through the Force to find any life-forms.

This was just another of the many solo missions that he had gone on during the forty years he had spent here in this galaxy, learning all that he could about the Force and what it was about. He had an eternity, after all.

He ducked into the shadows of the stark white corridor as a droid rolled past, carrying a metal cart filled with vials of some sort. He discreetly used the force to lift two bottles into his hands. Maybe one of them would come in handy in another mission once he figured out what it was.

He hurried along the corridors once again, making his way to his destination, for this was his mission- to kill the dark Jedi that lived here. The Jedi had been tracking him down for years, trying to find this murderer that continued to kill every Jedi he came across without mercy. It had gone on long enough.

As he approached the door behind which he could sense the dark Jedi was, he wondered if he could just sneak in and kill him and be done with it. He shook his head and sighed inwardly. It wouldn't work.

He had been trained for thirty years to be an assassin for the Jedi, killing any Dark Jedi that might be out there. Ever since he had been found on the temple doorstep as a child that one day so long ago, he had been learning.

He was swift, he was silent, he could walk on any material without a noise and as light as a feather, he could go virtually unseen and undetected by anyone without the Force, he could kill and leave without a trace. His true identity was unknown and he was feared by the evil in the galaxy for his skills.

The Jedi council had made use of his skills by training him to be an assassin, and had also taught him the boundary between the light and the dark. He was not dark; he was light- but he was also a suppressed light. He could kill without emotion and he would not let attachments get in his way. He was not heartless- far from it- but he was not innocent.

How many times had he been captured by a dark Jedi and tortured, trying to be turned to the dark side? He was light. In each case, he was victorious- for the simple reason that he had never had another choice. In the end, he came out alone and free.

The door opened and closed behind him as he stepped inside, slipping into the shadows of the room. The dark Jedi turned to look and was puzzled to see no one there by the door. He could sense no one anywhere around. A hand clamped on his neck and a lightsaber was at his throat before he had a chance to blink.

"Who sent you?" His voice, despite the dire conditions, was calm.

"Why do you need to know?" Answered a calm, detached voice. The dark Jedi envied him for his- aloofness.

"I wish to know the name of my assassin before I die." He replied coolly, trying to probe the aura of this being. He was shocked to find a solid, unmoving wall blocking his attempts.

"Then you may call me Dimaethor. All deaths of the Jedi are avenged by the Force in the end." The voice replied without emotion. He could not see anything of this person, he could not sense them. It was like facing death itself in the face.

"Then know that the Jedi are pitiful." He snarled, sensing that his time was up. A light touch of the humming lightsaber and the body was lowered to the floor. Obi-Wan stared at it without any emotion on his face or in his eyes- there was none. He was an assassin. There was no room for emotion.

"Pitiful indeed." He answered the dead form blankly, and left. There was no trace of his coming or going, and there was no sound until an hour later when the alarm was raised at the finding of the lifeless body that stared at them with unseeing eyes.

It was like the poor man had committed suicide. That's how everyone else explained it. That's how Obi-Wan wanted it. This was his job and his life.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Qui-Gon Jinn sat by the window of his quarters on his meditation pallet, thinking about his soon-to-be-former Padawan. He was, of course, proud of him and all that he had accomplished and learned, but he was also a bit worried, as he admitted to himself.

Not about turning to the dark side, heavens no, but about- well, just Obi-Wan in general.

He reflected back to the day that he had first met him. It had been such a dreary, rainy day on Coruscant, and he was coming back from shopping for his quarters. As he walked up the stairs to the Jedi temple, he noticed a strange bundle at the very top, in front of the doors. Levitating a few of his bags, he picked up the bundle and had been shocked to find a child in it- a child who was glowing what's more.

The Force urged him to hide the child. Ever one to obey the force, he had, walking along the corridors to his room with the child safely tucked into his arm and hidden from any others. Of course, then he had shown the boy to the council; who had in turn assigned him to care for it.

That had been forty years ago. No one knew what race Obi-Wan was, for there had never been one like him to ever be studied. His pointy ears, his unnaturally natural glow, his long, golden hair that he never cut, and even his immortality- which they had learned about as soon as the child had been asked his age- was a mystery to them. Their best guess was an angel, which had been vehemently denied by the boy who had no memory of anything but his birth name. They had given him an alias instead. And so he became Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Throughout the years, Obi-Wan had been taught to suppress his glow, so as not to draw unnecessary attention to himself. The boy had learned quickly, and the only side-effect was the color change of his eyes.

Qui-Gon had been astounded and captivated by the boy's natural eye color. It had been a beautiful cerulean, literally swirling with a silvery-blue and clear, leafy green. With the dulling of his glow, they had become an unnatural shade of violet.

And his Force-presence; it was astoundingly clear and bright, making it almost hurt when he didn't shield it. He did, though, putting an impenetrable shield around his mind and soul and heart, twisting his inner glow into a solid barrier.

He had also poured over the shielding techniques in the archives, using the most advanced shielding that the Jedi knew of. He could go anywhere he wished and never be detected by even the best of Masters. He was not a void in the Force like most others- he was melded into it, a part of it, buried so deeply into its layers that he was hidden and even protected by it.

As he continued to mull over the upcoming trials for the boy- for boy he was even though he was 120- he could only hope that his apprentice would not fail like Xanatos had, for being an assassin was the most dangerous sect of the Jedi.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Obi-Wan walked along the corridors to the analysis wing of the Jedi temple, hood up as it usually was in this galaxy. He mused about the dark being he had just killed. What was it that made people turn to the dark side for revenge? He wondered to himself as he waited for the results of his vials.

He was broken out of his train of thought by a droid informing him that the vials contained lethal poison that worked by entering the blood system of whatever ingested it and making its way towards the heart. It only took fifteen minutes for it to, and once it passed the heart, it would start corroding the walls of the heart within a matter of minutes. A swift, nearly painless death.

The assassin took the vials and stowed them in his pockets. One drop of the stuff in a glass of water was enough to do its job. His own job would benefit from the potion.

Purple eyes stared thoughtfully at the door that he had arrived in front of, and his hand reached out for the hand-pad that would allow him access into the rooms.

Fingers pressed the pad and the door slid open. This was his life, and he had no other choice but to live with it. It was the way of life that he had been forced into, and he was not about to change it.

Not when the Force screamed at him that it was right, despite that he was in the wrong place. Here, he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, not Lasson Greenleaf.


	2. Chapter 2

**next chapter! **

**SkyleafAlchemist19: I know, right? *nods frantically* it's a lot more plausible. I hope you like this chapter. Normally I update everyday, but right now I got a little stuck on chap 3, so we'll see. XD tell me what you think!**

Chapter 2

The familiar quarters were drenched in the Force. If he had felt like he belonged in this galaxy, then he would have said that the Force had made it into its own personal home. Soothing, comforting tendrils curled around him, allowing peace of mind and rest that was not often to be found elsewhere.

"Master." He greeted his master warmly with a dip of the head. He may be an assassin, but he was not emotionless.

"Padawan. Was your mission successful?" His master rose from his couch and went to make some tea. He followed.

"Yes, master. It was successful." Obi-Wan replied, sitting quietly at the table. His violet eyes followed his master's movements, delving a little deeper into the Force and seeing the utter calm and familiarity in the movements, steadfast and unwavering. It was almost unnerving how well he could sense the Force.

Chai tea was set before him in a chipped, earthenware cup, and he curled his fingers around it, brows furrowing. The slight steam rose to his nose and he breathed it in, allowing it to relax his muscles.

"What troubles you, Padawan?" His master sat in front of him, wise, grey eyes peering over the rim of the cup that was hidden in his beard.

"What makes them turn?" He asked, lifting the cup up. He knew that the question was complex. And he knew that he would also get no answer- and a cryptic one if at all. It was for him to find out, not to be answered. His master did not reply.

He lifted the mug to his lips and inhaled it. It was not to be swallowed, it was to be inhaled, barely sipped. Flavors of dried grass, herbs, and flowers mingled and pooled on his tongue, and he swallowed as soon as it had cooled. They sat in silence for a while.

"The council has decided that your training is to take place in two days." Piercing eyes studied him, and he set the mug down.

"Yes, master." In truth, he was nervous. His face held no emotion, but he was still nervous. The trials were difficult, and he knew that especially with his skills he would be sorely tested. Tomorrow was to be spent in meditation to prepare. For now, though, he chose to think about his vague memories and converse with his master as they sipped the tea along with the Force.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The Force was being mysterious today. Not that it hadn't always been, but to a Jedi the Force was quite clear, and especially to Obi-Wan. Today, though, it was even more so than usual.

It was slick and tepid, like the rains that fell drearily outside- exactly the way it had been when Qui-Gon had first found his apprentice.

Obi-Wan cleared his mind. It was almost ridiculously easy to center himself, for he was the center. He was the anchor for the ship of his thoughts in the eddying currents of the Force.

They arrived at the place where his trials were to take place. Obi-Wan wondered how many trials that the Jedi masters had seen during their lifetimes. Qui-Gon sent him a soothing pulse, and he acknowledged it with a slight nod that was returned.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, ready for the trials, you are, Hmm?" The grand master Yoda hobbled up with his gimmer stick and studied him.

He bowed in respect. "Yes, master Yoda." He replied. Emotionless and expressionless. Centered and focused. Hopefully by the time that this was finished, he could add tried and true to that description.

He breathed. The Force filled his lungs, filling, stretching, searching, and giving life. His mind was empty. His hand rested on his lightsabers. He was calm.

"Then you may begin when ready." Master Windu spoke up, voice as sharp and to-the-point as his Vaapad katas.

He nodded and walked forwards; not quickly, not excitedly. Quietly, calmly, determinedly. He was ready to face any and all things that he might meet. He knew that the masters were watching. He knew that his own master was watching. He would not fall. He would not let them down.

The Force whispered to him as he entered a doorway into a room in the hallway that he had been directed to. He was quiet. He was swift. He melded into the shadows- became a shadow. He was no more than another formless being, watching and knowing all things. Violet eyes were now plum purple, deep and dark in concentration.

He wished there were life-forms here with him. He, as an elf, was connected with living things, plants and trees. But he knew that the absence of them was deliberately arranged as part of the trials. It made it as difficult as possible.

The Force shrieked in his ears in warning. A red snap-hiss and a crackle of plasma alerted him and he sank even deeper into the Force, his own azure blade springing to life like the claws of a Nexxu as he sprang out of the shadows to face his opponent.

This was not a sentient being. This was an advanced hologram, specially programmed in the ways of a Sith. His eyes flashed in the sparks that flew from the crackling blades as they met in the deadly dance. But he was not a warrior. He was not a knight. He did not do swordplay.

He went for the kill. He did not parry: he moved. He flowed like the currents of the Force he immersed himself in, snapping out to strike like the head of a serpent or the crack of a well-aimed whip. He did not block: he redirected.

The next instant the red saber was cut in half and spinning on the floor where it had landed with a crack. He slipped back into the shadows and continued on.

Silent; swift; efficient; unknown; hidden: the litany was running through his head like a chant spoken over and over. The Force is silent. Whispered tendrils of muted sound escape its strange oiliness, slick and thick and suffocating like an oil spill in the oceans. It is brooding, holding its breath as though before a deep plunge.

His minute probes into the Force suddenly warn him as a destroyer rolls into the room from behind the pillar it has been stationed. He can count three destroyers, five magna-guards, and two normal droids. He feels annoyed, but hides it behind his mental shields.

His sudden leap startles the droids that are looking around for their enemy. Before they can register the command to shoot, he has already taken out two destroyers. He bounces silently off of the walls, dodging the plasma shots and landing behind a magna-guard. It has been thirty seconds since he has leapt.

The droid crumples to the ground, neatly cut in half with a muted clatter that can barely be heard as Obi-Wan slows its descent with the Force. Another droid lunges, and is met with a saber to the face. One by one they are all dispatched, confused and bewildered as the shadow leaps from nowhere and everywhere, slipping in and out of the dark patches that scatter the floor in the corners of the room.

The blue blade and the green shoto disappear with a muted thrum, like a satisfied sigh. It has been fifteen minutes since he has started. He is halfway there.

The next room is filled with darkness. It is quiet, and the force swirls in disquiet and unease. The blackness is thick and wrong. He sinks into the force. Azure, golden, scarlet, emerald, and lavender spring into color like pinpoints of starlight in a black sky; and he looks around with his elvish eyesight, awed at the amount of crystals that stud the walls in this room.

They are catalysts for the Force, focusing the Force through them and making clear the notes of the song that the Force always sings. But they are warning him. Suddenly, darkness begins slamming against his shields. It is trying to break through, to break him, to harm him, to hurt him- he grits his teeth and dives into the Force.

He is like a diver, swimming deeper and sinking into the Force, melding himself into its currents and wrapping it around him like a shield. That is what the Force is. A shield. The darkness slams against the Force, unable to reach him through the shield.

He walked along the hallways, hiding himself in the Force and making his silent footsteps change from being a drumbeat in the Force to nothing more than a muted thud; like a pair of socks on a carpeted floor.

The darkness retreats. He walks into an open room that is filled with light that streams in from the high windows, lighting up the white statues that line the sides of the stark-white room.

The air here is starch and clean, and in acknowledgement the Force stays put, opting to stay in its place and not move, becoming like the statues and playing their silent flutes that ring in his ears as the music of the Force.

Here everything is the center. Here it is an anchor, a place of rigid peace from the continuous waves of the Force.

He walks through, listening to the silent conversation of the statues through their poses. The thoughtful, gaze pinned on the other statue that is in the stance of a kata, eyes closed. Meditation through movement. A dull background of tuned-out music, to serve as an anchor for thoughts.

The statue in the basic, offensive, battle-ready Shii-cho stance, lightsaber pointed to another figure who is dancing. Strength through weakness. He must be strong, but also flexible. A strong wind may fell a mighty oak tree and leave the reed beside it still standing, because the reed has bent compliantly to the wind, easing the wind's wrath.

The last and most seemingly starkly contrasting pair there is. A figure draped in robes, books in hand and mouth open in a rousing speech- and judgmental finger pointing at the woman whose tears are mingling with the dew on the rose petals that she bears, devotion and sorrow etched into her features. Power through gentleness. He can sway a crowd with a speech, but with gentleness he can sway the hard world to tears.

As he exits that final room, the Force still echoing in his ears with fading notes of a haunting melody, he thinks about the lessons he has learned through the trials. He will apply them to his life. He looks up to see the masters there, small smiles on some of their faces, and allows relief and joy to show through his eyes, the emotions leaking through his impeccable shields and blooming in the Force like grass and flowers.

"Well done, Padawan Kenobi. You have passed the trials. The last room was the most important, for not only will you use these lessons in life, but you must also learn to find them in seemingly meaningless things. Congratulations." Master Adi Gallia spoke up, giving him a smile at the end.

His master clapped his shoulder- his father-figure in all things, and the congratulations that he received from others faded to just another cacophony of muted, background sounds as he thanked his master through his eyes and the Force.

No words were needed. It was already spoken through the music of the spheres that surrounded them in its light.


	3. Chapter 3

**so sorry this is late, but I've been really busy. Review, please? That's to all those who have favorited and followed so far. I'm afraid this story will be a little slower in updating, but I won't give up on it, you have my word!**

Chapter 3

Obi-Wan gave a slight, unnoticeable shudder as a lightsaber hummed next to his ear where he knelt on the stone floor of the council chamber. With the smell of burnt hair in his nose, he looked down at the severed Padawan braid that lay in his hand, and tied the open end of it with a blue band.

The Masters all around him nodded in satisfaction as he stood, newly knighted. He was no longer a learner, but now a master, free to take on an apprentice of his own. He is an assassin, a dangerous enemy and yet the greatest friend. But trust does not come easily with Kenobi.

He stood and walked over to his former master and bowed. "Master, will you accept this braid as thanks for your training?" The words were spoken as formally as the braid was offered, but the remnants of their training bond echoed with the true sentiment behind the words.

His master bowed in return. "It is an honor." He replied, misty blue eyes glinting in knowing humor. A smile quirked Obi-Wan's lips for a moment before turning back to the council.

He opened his mouth to speak when the Force suddenly railed. It burst into action, like a shark breaking the surface of the ocean to snatch his kill out of the air. Masters and former Padawan fell to their knees, overwhelmed with the sudden power that filled the air, tangible and strong, demanding attention.

It roared like a thundering waterfall over a cliff, and broke upon them like they were the rocks and pebbles on the bottom of the riverbed, forcing them down. Obi-Wan's eyes peeled open from where they had shut, and he vaguely heard a voice ring through his ears.

"Come back to us, Lasson. Remember what you are. Return, for help is required-" the command was broken off by the rushing of air through his hair and into his ears, and something in his mind broke. He clutched his head with a shout that was lost in the sound of the wailing Force, memory after memory rushing through his head, fleet and fast, slipping through his mental fingers like water.

Then everything went black, and the Force cradled him like a child, the feeling of a soothing, black cloak that wrapped him in peace and calm.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Masters rose to their feet, shaken and pale by the power that had been just released by the Force. They looked around at each other, confused and bewildered.

"What was that?" Mace Windu rasped, shocked at the hoarseness in his own voice.

Qui-Gon, though, was staring at the braid that was cradled in his palm. "He's gone. He is where he belongs." He replied, voice flat in private grief.

The masters suddenly realized the absence of Obi-Wan and slowly the puzzle pieces clicked into their minds.

"Brought here by the Force, he was; and reclaimed its own, it has." Master Yoda nodded, leaning on his cane.

Only Windu and Yoda exchanged a look of incredulous news at the mood that the Force was currently in.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

He was floating in the black, night sky. Voices rose to him from where he wandered in his sleep, and pinpricks of light floated in front of his vision, spotting the blackness with bright polka dots.

"Is he awake yet?" Asked an impatient voice irritably.

"Hush! When he wakes he will let us know." Came the reprimand.

He struggled to understand what position he was in. Was he standing, or lying down, or- for all he knew he could be upside down! He finally gave up and called out to the blackness.

"Who are you, and where am I?" His voice sounded small and quiet, not at all like it normally did. It sounded childish.

"See? He's awake!" The pinpricks of light floated closer.

"We are the Valar. We knew that you would have questions; therefore we are here to answer them." Came the reply. He frowned, and sudden memories came back to him.

"I-I come from another world?" He was baffled. And that was something that he wasn't very often.

"Yes, you do. And you were sent to another place to learn how to use your skills." Was the curt answer.

He thought about it for a moment. Elves, dwarves, men- he was an elf. That explained his glow and his immortality and pointed ears. He remembered everything- but his heritage.

"Why can't I remember my family?" Funny, he felt so vulnerable without that knowledge.

"Because you were meant to find out on your own." Was the reply. "Now, your time is up. You need to go back." He frowned. If this was the Valar, then he couldn't argue, but still-!

Then everything swirled and went completely black all over again, much to his annoyment.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

When he woke up, the first thing that he noticed was the Force. It was practically seething in smugness. The Force was rubbing its tendrils in glee, cackling like it had accomplished a great feat. It was proud of itself, like when someone has proven their enemy wrong.

The second thing he noticed was the clarity in the Force. It wasn't tainted like it was back in- what, another- not galaxy, but- universe. That's it. It wasn't tainted like it was there, but instead it was much more clearer.

The third thing he noticed was that he was in the middle of a clearing and something about him was very different. With a grunt, Obi-Wan stood and his hand automatically went to his waist. To his relief, both his shoto and lightsaber were there, but there were other things on him as well.

He took a look at himself and did a double-take. Firstly, he wasn't wearing Jedi robes any more. Instead, he had on a green tunic with silver swirls like the pattern of vines and leaves, and a pair of green pants that were covered by the tunic that hung down like a dress, except slit at the sides for better mobility. Strangely, though, it was comfortable and familiar.

Secondly, he had a whole bunch of other weapons all hidden underneath his brown Jedi cloak. He was grateful for that, because he knew that he would blend in very well with the trees and other places he would wander. Counting his weapons, he had his two 'sabers; a bow and a quiver of arrows; the two vials of poison that he had tucked in his tunic; twenty throwing daggers in myriads of places, including his boots and secret pockets in his tunics; and three returning throwing stars.

On second thought, he reached up to his braided hair and was relieved to find that his hair spikes were still there as well. Enemies found his hair apparently fascinating, and as a result he had been tugged to tears before. So he had made hair spikes, braided into his braids. Lethal weapons, really.

Lasson took a look around and leapt into a nearby tree, finding that no Force-leap was necessary. This part of the forest was strange. The trees were darker than they should have been, according to his memories, and they hissed as though in anger. This whole part of the forest was fraught with danger, and he found it disturbing.

Something brushed against his consciousness, and he felt startled, until he remembered that the trees can speak. They whispered to each other, even as he heard them in his mind.

'Elf' they hissed suspiciously. 'Elves bad. They hurt. Too bright!' They cringed. He placed a hand on the tree he was in, and felt it creak under his touch.

"This elf strange.' The tree said, confusion in its voice. 'Warm. Not burns.' The other trees seemed interested.

Lasson tilted his head, realizing that these trees were shadowed. They were not like the other trees, for the darkness had taken ahold of them, making them become not evil, but tainted, in the neutral zone. They could just as easily hate orcs as they would elves.

'I am- a friend." He replied to their murmurs. They talked among themselves. This elf was warm. His touch reminded them of what they were a long time ago. Bright and untainted. But now they were not so.

'Daelas' they whispered to one another. 'This elf our Daelas.' They decided. The trees creaked and their branches cut off Obi-Wan's path. They would keep him as their own warm little sapling, their Daelas and none others'.

'You cannot keep me here.' Their Daelas told them. 'I must leave. But I will return.' The trees hissed.

'Our Daelas stay.' They retorted possessively. He sighed in reply.

'I cannot.' He replied. The dark trees seemed to grumble in reluctance, but for their shadow leaf, they would let him go where he would. He had promised to come back, hadn't he?

'Thank you, Mellon nîn.' He thanked them, and in a moment had disappeared from their consciousness and their sight. And they wondered all the more. Who was their warm leafling really?


	4. Chapter 4

**thank you to all those who have favorited and followed! Please enjoy this chapter. I hope to have the next one up by tomorrow. Please review!**

Chapter 4

Obi-Wan had slipped away from the part of forest with the dark trees and instead went deeper into the forest, trying to get his bearings. He would have to relearn all of this terrain all over again, and it was a daunting thought.

The Force was turbulent here, swirling with muted activity and secrecy. Things hid in the shadows, him being one of them. He wondered if there were any orcs in this forest.

He frowned as he traveled nimbly and swiftly through the treetops, jumping from branch to branch. The Force was rallied around one particular spot where he could sense beings lived and were gathered.

He arrived at the edge of a fairly large clearing and peered out of the treetops, masking his presence with the Force. Elves guarded the gates, and he used his elven eyesight to look at them.

They had their hair braided and similar clothes to his as well. They stood guard, alert and watching. He frowned slightly as he studied their armor. It would do well for battles he supposed, but were still weak at the pressure points. He would make a note of it to remember.

He knew that he would not return to his elven kin. He had no idea which elven kingdom he belonged to anyway, and no knowledge of his family. They would not accept him. He was too dark for their ways, and he had no explanation for his disappearance from this world.

It was not as though he was about to explain to them the idea and concept of alternate universes and galaxies. He himself had taken years to accept that idea, and the elves would think him absolutely insane if he tried to teach them.

No, he would not. So he left, slipping back out of the clearing and leaving to explore the rest of the forest. He could have easily entered the city unnoticed, he knew that, but he was not ready yet to face the cities.

He needed time himself to reconcile that he was actually of this world. Yes, he would use time. Something that he had in plenty. Time to watch these seasons pass away. Time he would now use to discover the geography of these woods, and from there, the rest of this world.

To sharpen his knowledge of the workings of this world, its etiquette, its ways, its words, its terminology. To add villages and rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, and names to the sketchy map already in his mind.

So he left, moving silently through the trees and out of the forest, making his way- where he didn't know. Somewhere. He would find out when he got there.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

King Thranduil sat on his throne, eyes gazing far beyond the walls of his throne room and into the forest of the past. To an event that had happened a long time ago.

It all started when his wife had decided to take a trip into the forest with their twin sons, Lasson and Legolas.

"We'll be fine, Thranduil, I promise. The guards are going with us." She had said, smiling up at him with the look he always gave in to. That time had been no exception. Until the guards had come back, bloody and bringing the queen in, an arrow in her side and his son Legolas safe.

He had never noticed the disappearance of Lasson until it was too late. His queen had left him alone, and his beloved son was gone. Disappeared. Legolas was the only one left.

He had cried out to the Valar, not understanding. Why? Why had he lost so much in one day? His son, his wife. His family. His life. And then, Thranduil Oropherion was gone. All that remained, was the Elvenking. He was truly broken.

Lasson had been his joy and pride along with Legolas. Elven twins were rare, and they were precious to him. Legolas had never given up on his twin, but Thranduil was different. He was sure that his son was not alive.

Legolas always searched for his brother. Legolas always kept hope. Why could his only son not see that there was none?

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The human village did little to ease Obi-Wan's tensed nerves. The travel across the plains had been nerve wracking, not knowing what type of creatures traveled these lands.

This small town was obviously an independent village. He had headed north, and had traveled straight, coming across this place after three days of walking. He had had no problems finding food, eating what he usually did. Greens, and drinking water from the river.

The village was well-organized and sparse, and the men, he noticed as he walked the paths between the houses, were obviously all friends and acquaintances. Very few women were here, to his surprise.

The Force in this village was sharp and clear, like polished blade of a clean sword. His lightsabers, as he already knew, were the most developed kind of technology in this world. His memories of this world were coming back slowly, reminding him of protocol, etiquette, races, languages, and many other basic things. Just not his past, to his private irritation.

His subtle Force-suggestion made him seem inconspicuous and unimportant. These men, whoever they were, were extremely strong-minded, to his surprise and pleasure. More than any other man he had ever met before. He slipped into an empty house, overriding the latch with a simple force-suggestion and locking it back behind him.

The house was simple and not cumbered with unnecessary nick-knacks, the very embodiment of the Jedi teaching. All of the bare necessities and no more. He suddenly felt a presence outside the door and looked around frantically, looking for an escape, and hissing under his breath as there was none except for the window next to the door.

The door opened and he turned to face it, resigning himself to his fate. A man looked up, and immediately a sword was pointed at Obi-Wan's neck.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?" Asked a cool voice. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I meant no harm, I was only curious of the location of this place." He explained softly.

The sword did not waver. "Kindly explain yourself." The man replied. "Why do you go about clad in a black cloak and your face hidden?" Obi-Wan smiled slightly at the suspicion in the man's tone. "You are clearly not one of us."

"And what exactly are you, then?" Lasson countered.

"Rangers. Have you never heard of one?" Came the voice, a little dryly.

The name clicked in Obi-Wan's head. "Ah, so this is the home of the rangers. I got lost, and if was unaware of where I am. Now I realize how far north I have come." He said, more to himself then anything. Then he stirred.

"I wear my hood because I do not wish for people to see my face." He replied calmly. "Just as a ranger does. In fact, I wish to become a ranger." He made a split-second decision.

The sword lowered, but was held ready. "Then you have come to the right person. Tell me, what makes you interested in such a guild? We are not very well-accepted people." The man asked, going over to a table. Obi-Wan shifted to face the man.

"I would not be well-accepted into any place, not even that of my own kin. I have not been near them for an age. I have- skills that would not be accepted easily, despite my allegiances." Lasson replied smoothly, while the man listened.

"What sort of skills might that be?" The question was well asked, and suspicion colored the force thickly like a murky brown mud.

He hesitated. "I was trained to be an assassin for the free people of middle earth." He replied truthfully. He was a Jedi, and the Jedi were supposed to protect the citizens of the galactic republic. What was so different about that and the free people of Arda?

The man paused. "For the free people, you say." He said warily. Obi-Wan's lips quirked, amused.

"Yes. If it convinces you, I have never killed an innocent man, nor any elf or dwarf." He said. The force curled around the words that lingered in the air, agreeing with them. The man studied him.

"I will believe you on one condition: show your face to me, if only me." He finally requested.

He lowered his hood. The man took one look and nodded. "You tell the truth. You are an elf, are you not?" He asked. Obi-Wan nodded and pulled the hood back up over his head.

"I am." Was his only short reply.

"Then welcome, new ranger of the north. What is your name?" The man asked. "I am Arathorn." He offered no last name, and Lasson nodded.

"You may call me Dimaethor." He replied vaguely. The man gave him a swift look. Curiosity peaked in the force.

"Silent warrior." He mused. Then he turned to face him and held out a hand. Obi-Wan clasped his wrist in return.

"You are most welcome."

Obi-Wan smiled genuinely, lifting his head slightly so that it was shown to Arathorn. "I hope that I may gain your trust in the days to come." Was his simple reply. The Force stirred at the words, and a flash of acknowledgement gave him a brief glimpse into the future. Oh, how much trust he was to earn from this ranger indeed.


	5. Chapter 5

**hey! Sorry this is so late. I promise that the next update will be sooner. I had been putting it off, but today I had a spelling quiz in school, and the word assassin was on it. 0.o So I took the hint and decided to update. My thanks to all those who have favorited and followed, and please enjoy this chapter! I love to get reviews telling me what people think. Thanks to Pip the Dark Lord for reviewing and all other who might have and I am too lazy to mention. **

Chapter 5

Obi-Wan decided that he would be far less accepted than a normal ranger. He had traveled a long ways now after being accepted into the ranger guild. He had left soon after taking his ranger's oath to help all in need that he could, to never let a female be violated in his presence, to always treat good men with respect, and basically everything he already did as a Jedi.

He had asked Arathorn not to reveal anything about him to the other rangers except for his alias Dimaethor, which had been accepted, of course, according to his wish. Then he had all but disappeared, moving on to the next place he would come across in his journey around Arda. But that had been at least a year ago.

Because of his ability to travel swiftly as an elf, he had finished his quest. Arda was mapped in his mind, and he knew at all times approximately where he was. He had not made himself known to any other man or being except for Arathorn, and because of his stealth, he had not even seen an orc yet, which he knew was an event long overdue to take place.

In the meantime, he was back in Greenwood- or as he heard it called by men, Mirkwood. He made his way to the shadowed part of the forest and placed his hand on shadowed trees' bark. 'I am back, just as I have promised, my friends.' He told them softly.

'Daelas!' They moved, branches curling around him. 'Daelas come back to us. Daelas stay.' They told each other. His lips quirked for a moment.

'Not quite to stay, but for a while.' He agreed. 'Tell me, has anything been happening while I was gone?' He asked them, wanting information. The trees suddenly cackled.

'Yes, yes, too-bright elves kill orcs, all gone, all gone.' They replied in glee, making Obi-Wan frown. The force swirled with discomfort and the lingering residues of the dark side, making him reinforce his shields and think twice about what they had said.

'Orcs? That is not good. What are orcs doing here?' He wondered, unaware that he was speaking the thought aloud to the trees.

'Go to fortress.' Was the nonchalant reply. 'Move there, all orcs.'

Obi-Wan was now worried. Old fortress? The only fortress in Mirkwood was- Dol Guldur. Oh Force, this was not good. For the orcs to make a home in the fortress was too close to Greenwood for comfort. Much too unsettling. He couldn't possibly stop it, but he could try to slow it as much as he could.

He sighed. 'Well, my friends, I believe you have found a good way to keep me here. I am going to stay here and stop as many orcs from making it to the fortress as I can.' He said dryly. The trees stirred.

Why did Daelas care? Why did he want to stop them? 'Why Daelas care.' They scoffed. He frowned at them.

'Orcs are evil. They want to kill me and everyone else.' He replied. Of course, there were more reasons, but that was just the simplest way to put it for the trees to understand. They seemed to pause a moment.

'Orcs want to kill Daelas. Nasty orcses kill Daelas.' They snarled, passing the message on to the others throughout the whole forest. Obi-Wan and his warm touch had made them remember what they had been before the shadow had corrupted them, and they loved him for the vestiges of happiness that that memory brought them. And those words were never forgotten by the trees, and in time they contributed an important part in the story to come that no one ever expected.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Legolas had always had hope that his twin brother would come back to them one day. He doubted himself, of course, but in the end, hope had always won. As twins, both of them had a strong bond. That day when everything had gone wrong, the bond hadn't broken.

It had only been muted. When he tried to reach across, he was always blocked by a solid, unmoving wall. That, or sometimes it changed and became like a cut thread. It trailed into seeming nothingness, stretching into a darkness that no light he could obtain would light. But not broken.

Therefore, he had always had hope. And that hope had governed his life, unlike his father. His father loved him, perhaps a little too much, even, but he knew that his Adar was broken. He would never have the same father back that he had when he was young, but he had hope that when his brother came back to them, that it would heal his father a little more.

In honor of his twin, Lasson- for he never forgot that name- he had determined to become the best warrior among all of the elves in his kingdom. He had worked hard and long, for as long as he could remember, to become a warrior that could not be beaten. When he found his brother one day, he swore to himself that he would make him proud.

He would not present himself as a crying, sniveling, broken babe that never got over the trials in life. His twin had always been strong in mind, whereas he had always been the brawn. He would not become like his father. He honored his Adar as his King and parent, but he could not make himself accept death so easily.

Therefore his goal had been reached. He was known as the prince of Greenwood, the best archer and warrior in his kingdom, strong in mind and strong in heart. Grief tempered by wisdom and hope. Hidden emotion that everyone could feel. Potent grief, twisted into strength through training.

He only hoped that when Lasson came back to them, that he would be proud of what he had become, for his sake and in his memory.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Lasson was meditating. The force swirled around him, communing with him soothingly. He drew strength from it, like drinking water from a canteen in the middle of a desert. An oasis in the desert of reality.

His mind wandered the eddying, changing currents of the force, lazily peeking into nooks and crannies, just resting. But he was still alert to what was going around him. He was not known as an assassin for nothing. One cannot scare or approach a shadow without being known. And he was a shadow.

The force suddenly stirred, a wave of new movement. He studied this new moment, and immediately jerked away from where his consciousness what about to touch the movement. His long overdue meeting was at hand, it seemed. Orcs.

He drew out of meditation smoothly, rising to his feet silently and swiftly. Obi-Wan Kenobi was gone, and Dimaethor was back. His face was rock, chiseled stone, unmoving, and his eyes were plum purple, like the twilight of the sky. Dark and concentrated.

His awareness stretched from his tree to where he could sense the orcs were, and he was not surprised. Thirty orcs, all headed in the direction of Dol Guldur. Assuming, of course, that that was their final destination. He was perched above them now, masked in the force and getting his first glimpse of the filth that roamed this world.

They were dark patches in the force, not completely black, but more like fire turned into a dark flame. Once lights that were now muted and stained inside out with evil and the dark side. Seething, simmering blackness.

They never knew what hit them- or rather, dropped into their midst. He was like a blur, a dark shadow that came out of nowhere and began to wreak havoc in their ranks.

Dimaethor almost scoffed at how easy these prey of his were. Easier than droids, even. They swung their weapons blindly, surprised by his sudden attack, swiveling to try to catch sight of him. But he was an assassin. He was not to be seen that easily.

He took them out one by one, using his bow and arrows, preferring in this case not to use his lightsabers. He sensed every one of their movements before it would happen. Their thoughts screamed out into the Force, and he grimaced slightly, annoyed.

The Force screeched in warning just as an arrow was released from a black crossbow, heading straight for his head. He reached out a hand, twisting his fingers sharply, and the arrow snapped in midair, falling to the ground in two neat pieces. Every body that was felled dropped to the ground silently, sounds muted by an application of the Force. Birds stopped chirping. The forest was silent.

The shadowed trees watched, silently applauding and cackling in morbid glee over the death of the filth. Their Daelas killed the orcs, and they loved to watch the sport. Their Daelas was not alone, for he had them on his side. He was safe.

The last of the pack fell, a small trickle of black blood escaping his mouth as the arrow in his neck was yanked out by a disgusted Obi-Wan Kenobi. Lasson hated the death that Dimaethor wrought, and yet gloried in the knowledge that it was one less terrorizer of the innocents. He cared not that the world knew not of it, for he knew, and that was enough for him. He was more than replace for every life that he helped in the killing of any possible offender.

It was his life, and he would not change it for all the glory the Valar could bestow upon him. If only his master could see him now. Qui-Gon would have been proud. He wished that he could have talked with him one last time, to thank him personally, and to show him the affection he held for him as a foster father, teacher, and companion. To give him due honor.

But such was the life of a Jedi. Dimaethor held no place in his duties for attachments, but Lasson and Obi-Wan did. That part of him did. And the balance, albeit fragile, was well-defined. That's how he had been trained. That's how he was. That was what defined him more than anything else.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The Nazgul was angry. Not upset, not displeased, not any such simple thing. But not enraged either. That was reserved for his master. No, he was angry.

The pack of orcs that had been due was not here, and it had been hours since he calculated that they should be here. He sent out a patrol of orcs to see if they could find the missing pack. Perhaps they had only been lost.

Yes, perhaps so. He would wait and see.


	6. Chapter 6

**hey everyone! Thanks for all of the faves an follows. I would have updated sooner, but I got sick, so yeah. Just to let you know, there might be a week before I update again because I have finals coming up in school, but I promise to update after then. Please enjoy and review this chapter, and forgive and grammatical mistakes or typos as I was rather in a hurry to get this up!**

**Pip the Dark Lord Of All: thank you so much for all of your reviews! I loved reading your profile. XD Actually to hear you say that you thought this was a great crossover brought me the warm fuzzies, since I take it you've read quite a few... Thanks again! Jedi-snapping arrows sent your way. ;)**

**blue mountain fairy: thank you! Yes, poor Obs.**

Chapter 6

It had been three days since Obi-Wan had defeated his first pack of orcs, and in that time he had killed three more, one each day. He knew of the patrol that had come and seen the first casualties, but he had let them take the news back to Dol Guldur because wanted them to know.

There was a new enemy in their midst, and for a reason he couldn't place, he felt a strange need for vengeance against them. His common Jedi sense knew that his feelings were dangerous, but Dimaethor never kept grudges.

It was never Lasson that killed, it was always Dimaethor. Therefore, every new victorious battle left him feeling empty, for though his mission had been accomplished, the part of him that cried out for revenge for something personal was not appeased. Something important. Something he didn't understand.

But it was, to him, nothing but part of his duty. A price he paid for being who he was. A Jedi Elf-Assassin, a dangerous being that walked the thin line between the light and the dark as a living. A shadow. A shady figure that slipped into enemy ranks and knew all of their secrets and was never known by either side.

And Obi-Wan had always been a stickler for following rules, so follow them he would. He had his virtues, morals, and limits, and he would stick to them. Never mind his internal battles that he struggled with every day. Those were his own to fight, and he needed to fight them alone.

Alone was what he was. Always and most likely forever. He never let his mind linger on it for too long, because the thought was enough to make him fade. Elves are not meant to be alone. They are meant to be with others. He had the company of the trees and the plants, and he had the company of the Force, of course, but it was not enough.

But who would accept him here, in this world? There was no going back to the familiar galaxy he had grown up in, back to his friends there. Here he was an anomaly, a strange elf with a rightfully questionable profession. Let's not even start on his 'powers.' He could not be accepted here, surely.

A Jedi is always alone, according to their teachings. Perhaps in spirit they are not, for there is always the force, but in body they are. There are no other Jedi on Arda. He will have to make his own way. Perhaps, one day, if he finds someone that is alone and force sensitive, he will train them as his own apprentice, his own Padawan. But that, as he knows, is highly improbable.

He sighed imperceptibly and headed down from his perch in a tree and moved through the forest. He would pay a secret visit to Greenwood. Perhaps he could stave off the need for companionship that way, if only for a while.

The city is bustling, full of elves moving here and there. Obi-Wan has his hood up, reveling inwardly at the presence of these elves. To him it is comforting, and he is not noticed by anyone, nothing but an inconspicuous shadow that slips from doorway to tree, unseen.

If only they knew how important he was. If only he knew how important he was.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

"You say there was no trace of anyone." The Nazgul snarled at the quailing orc.

"No, captain, there was not." Came the answer.

The Nazgul seethed. Who was this mysterious one that dared to kill his orcs and delay his plans? He turned back to the orc who still waited for his command.

"Find this being and bring him to me." He ordered. The orc bowed and sprinted off to do his bidding. He wanted to know who this was who dared do such a thing. He would pay.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The forest was quiet. Obi-Wan sat in a tree, quietly listening to what was going on around him. The river below gurgled underneath the branch he sat in, the shadowed tree hiding him in its leaves.

He patted the bark and suddenly sat up, pulling his hood over his head. There was a strange presence approaching, powerful and yet quite flustered. Obi-Wan almost choked in shock as a sled pulled by- were those rabbits?- burst into his sight and stopped, a figure climbing off and bustling about the trees.

'Who is that?' He asked the tree. It snorted in reply.

'Radagast. Strange Istar.' Was the reply. A wizard, he mused.

"No no no, this is not good. What happened to him?" Radagast muttered, half frantic, it seemed. Obi-Wan tilted his head.

"May I help you?" He suddenly asked. Radagast's head flew up, searching for the voice. Lasson dropped down to the ground, hood up.

"If you tell me what you are looking for, I can help you." He offered. The wizard suddenly lifted his staff.

"And who might you be?" Radagast asked warily. Obi-Wan lifted his hands placatingly.

"A friend. I will not harm you. I only want to help." He said. The wizard studied him, which he submitted to patiently. Then the staff lowered, and the lines in his face smoothed out.

"I sense no lie in you. I am searching for an injured elf that the creatures told me was here." Radagast replied, falling back into his worried search. Obi-Wan stretched his consciousness out, searching for any life forms through the force. Then he frowned as he latched onto a weak life-force.

"Here." He said, and quickly strode away. The wizard followed him. They found the elf on the ground by the riverside, unconscious and a small pool of blood underneath his stomach. They rolled him over, and both bent over the elf.

Lasson did a quick scan with the force. "No poison. Only a wound." He ripped the tunic off of the elf and started using the force to staunch the flow of blood.

"Are you a wizard?" Radagast's voice suddenly asked him, sounding a tad wary again. Obi-Wan scolded himself in his mind. Of course he had forgotten. No one here knew about the Force, and he couldn't just use the old 'I'm a Jedi' explanation because it wouldn't be understood.

"Work now, talk later." He replied, not wanting to be distracted from his work. He was normally polite, but this was a life and death situation for the elf in front of them. The more he studied the elf, the more he wondered what group of elves he came from.

During his travels, he had visited all four elven kingdoms. The Teleri by the sea, whose leader was Círdan the shipwright; Lothlòrien, where the Lady of Light Galadriel reigned; of course Mirkwood, whose King was Thranduil; and even the hidden city of Imladris, whose ruler was Lord Elrond. He believed he was a Mirkwood elf by his looks, but you never know. Still, it never hurt to guess either now, did it?

The wound was wrapped, blood flow stopped, and breathing regulated. Radagast placed some poultices on the wound as well, and for the first time, Obi-Wan wished for a bacta patch.

"Now for the answer to your question, brown Istar, that is a long story." He told Radagast after helping the elf onto the- rabbit sled- for lack of a better name. Description. Whatever.

"Come with me, then, and we shall hear it." The wizard offered, looking at him. He inclined his head in thanks and leaped on smoothly behind the wizard. They took off.

Now, to be honest, it was true that while he had thought that no one would ever know his story, much less be interested, it might be helpful to have a wizard know. It felt right, and the Force agreed with that particular train of thought; and as it has been said before: who was he to deny the force? And if he may have used that as an excuse sometimes to get himself out of trouble with the council- well then, he blamed it on his maverick master.

Although he was certain that if he ever told that to said man, all he would receive was the perfected-by-practice look of blank, droid-like 'do not compute.' He snorted to himself. Master of under-statements indeed. And the council wondered where he got his vagueness from? It had nothing to do with his assassin-ness.

"Would you like tea?" The voice jolted out of his thoughts. He had been so used to meditating while walking that he had forgotten for a moment where he was.

"Ah, yes, thank you." He replied, brushing away a pang of nostalgia that overcame him at the familiar question. How he wished to sip a cup of Sapir tea with his master.

He sat down on an empty chair (one of the very few, he noticed) and received the cup with thanks. The tea was surprisingly good for its muddy look, and he sipped it gratefully. It had been a while since he had had such an indulgence.

The Force in this tree house, quite literally, was rather interesting. It teemed with life and growth more than anything. He was reminded of acorns. "So tell me, what is this story you speak of?" Radagast asked, making sure that the elf was comfortable and sitting down across from him.

So Obi-Wan began his long tale from the very beginning. Radagast seemed intrigued by the time he was done. "You should go to Gandalf. He knows more about such things." He advised Lasson, who blinked.

"I honestly have no intention of finding out how I came here. I only wish to carry out the only option given me." He replied.

"Which would be?" The wizard raised a bushy eyebrow, making Obi-Wan flinch slightly at the cracking of the white trail down the side of his face. Force knows how much of a stickler for cleanliness he was. Quite ironical, really, if you think of how stained and dirty his own hands were from his profession. But then, everything needs a balance.

"To stay in the shadows and protect innocents." He answered the question posed, and stood, walking to the window next to the shabby door nearly hanging off of its hinges.

"Perhaps you're right, Dimaethor. I don't believe you would be very well received by others. Wizards are respected but feared as well." Radagast mused.

Lasson's lips twitched. "Yes, well, I am an assassin, and you are a wizard. Your reputation precedes you. Mine does not. Your allegiances are not questioned. Mine are." He remarked dryly.

"Perhaps." Radagast repeated. "And then, perhaps it's because we are still feared that I understand your plight. If you ever run across Gandalf, however, talk to him. You never know when it might come in handy for him to know you, and for you to know him." The wizard said sagely, picking up the cups while at the same time managing to look knowing.

"I had forgotten how well wizards speak in riddles." Obi-Wan chuckled, opening the door. "If you ever have need of me, the Force will convey a message if you call-"

And before Radagast could even look up, the black hood was gone. Dimaethor indeed.

But then, Obi-Wan had sensed the elf awakening.


	7. Chapter 7

**the next chapter for you all! Hope it's up to expectations for the wait. Sorry about that. I had exams so I didn't have time for a while to write. Please review and tell me what you think! Am I keeping Obi-Wan's character as canon as possible? Should I change it a little? Thank you for all of the follows and faves!**

**Hbest: thank you so much!**

**blue mountain fairy: yep, you're quite right, as you'll see.**

**Pip the Dark Lord of All: thanks! Yep, here's some more as requested!**

Chapter 7

The shadowed trees were obviously interested in something. Obi-Wan frowned and placed his hand on the bark. 'What gives you interest?' He asked them.

The trees were muttering to each other in confusion, but finally one answered him. 'Wizard find dwarf in fortress.' It replied, just as the trees waved their branches in intrigue.

Obi-Wan decided to see if it was Gandalf. Why not? He used the trees to get there faster, quietly slipping into the fortress and keeping to the shadows as he made his way to where a blazing presence bent over a fading one.

The bright one was like a hole. It sucked in everything around it, and yet was as calm as the deep breath before the plunge. It was to be respected and honored for its strength and wisdom.

The fading one was broken, tainted by darkness and turning a sickly green. He flinched. Even if he tried, he couldn't heal someone like that. He was already far too gone, and far too dark.

He finally made it to the place and stuck closely to the darkness of the walls, just as the sickly presence became one with the Force. Obi-Wan bowed his head.

"Though there is death, there is the Force. May the Force embrace its child, and may it comfort his family." He murmured quietly, a prayer for the ones gone home to the embrace of the Force.

Then his ears pricked. There was harsh breathing, and new, darker presences flooded the Force. He grimaced. The wizard was in danger if he did not sense those presences in time! Once again, Obi-Wan disappeared and Dimaethor was back.

The assassin slipped from the shadows and ran quietly to the wizard, who raised his staff, but he held up a hand.

"Friend. Orcs coming. Too many. Come, we must leave!" He said, urgently motioning to the exit. The wizard studied him a moment, and then nodded.

"Let us go." He agreed heavily. They fled. Through the walls, past the illusions, out to murky but welcome daylight. Gandalf heaved a weary sigh and leaned on his staff, while Dimaethor turned to the wizard.

"My name is Dimaethor. I am a friend of Radagast, who suggested that I come to you." He introduced himself quietly.

"I am Gandalf the Grey. Pleased to meet you. So Radagast thinks you need my help?" He replied, shaking hands.

So for the second time, Obi-Wan found himself telling his story to a wizard, who listened with the same interest as the last.

"I see. Quite intriguing, Dimaethor. I shall try to find out more about your heritage, if I can. Perhaps you wouldn't mind if I asked if you would be interested in an adventure I am planning?" Gandalf asked, peering at the elf.

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I suppose not." He finally replied after consulting with the Force. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Then you have my thanks. Where are you planning to go?" The wizard called after the retreating cloak, which paused.

"Into the north. I have business there." Was the curt reply. And like a breath of stale air, he was gone, while Gandalf was left with new thoughts and doubts.

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Obi-Wan hadn't been lying when he said he had business in the north. It was about time that he reported back to his leader Arathorn, and besides, he wanted to see his friend again.

As always, his journey was swift and silent. No one saw him come, and no one saw him leave. Inconspicuous and unimportant.

The ranger village was unusually happy, he noticed as he slipped through the crowds of people silently.

The wooden door came into his sights as he approached and knocked politely. A moment later, it was opened and Arathorn stood in front of him, a smile on his face.

"Ah, Dimaethor! Welcome!" He ushered the cloaked and hooded figure into the small house and pulled out a chair. "I was wondering when I would get to see you again. I have just become wedded." His friend was unusually happy, and despite himself, a small smile worked its way to the surface of his mouth.

"Darling, come here, I would like you to meet someone!" Arathorn called into the house, and then turned to Obi-Wan. "How have you been, my friend?" He asked, folding his hands in front of him on the tabletop.

"Quite well, I suppose." Obi-Wan replied vaguely. "Many orcs have been bothering me at Mirkwood." He reported, sitting calmly yet stiffly in his hard-backed chair.

"Hmm, that is disturbing news." Arathorn murmured.

"I do not think it is quite yet cause for too much alarm. Have things been calm here in the north?" Dimaethor asked as a change in topic. Just then, a young woman came into the sitting room with two mugs in her hands.

She curtsied to them and Obi-Wan stood, always with Jedi politeness. "Greetings." The lady said softly with a smile, and handed him a mug.

"Thank you, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet you." Obi-Wan replied, taking the mug with both hands.

Arathorn smiled and pulled her down next to him, taking the other mug with a look of thanks. "This is my wife Gilraen. Gilraen, this is Dimaethor, the ranger I have told you of."

Obi-Wan was surprised. He had told his wife about him? That was an- unexpected honor. "All good things, I hope." He said, a smile clear in his voice as he lifted the mug to his lips in a toast to the lady.

She laughed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Dimaethor. Yes, I have heard nothing but good things of you." She replied with a bright, winsome smile. Our dark ranger smiled to himself at the innocence and freshness of the girl- for of course, she was nothing but that to an elf. She could not be more than eighteen, surely.

"Then I am relieved. I wish I could say the same as you, however I fear I have been much too busy speaking with orcs to say that truthfully." He said wryly, taking another ginger sip of the ale. He was an elf, and elves to not tend to enjoy ale. But then, Obi-Wan was used to eating strange things- he had been a Jedi, you remember.

"I hope you have not run into too much danger." The lady replied in naïve concern. He breathed a laugh.

"That depends on your point of view, my lady. To you, I most likely have. To a ranger, I most likely have. To me, perhaps not." He chuckled. "But I will spare you the boring details, that you may not fall asleep in my long spiels of conquest and scrapes." He answered, lifting the mug again.

Arathorn laughed. "To a lady, perhaps." He agreed. "Have you stayed in Mirkwood this whole time?" He asked.

"I have." He answered. "The spiders keep coming from this area. They are growing in numbers, and the elves are having difficulty in staunching the flow. I do not understand their King. He should take care of the problem at the roots and not continue to clip the leaves." Obi-Wan remarked gravely, setting the mug down. "Otherwise, there has been no more to report than that."

"I see." The leader of the mysterious guild stroked his stubble thoughtfully. "Very interesting. I must remember that." He murmured. "Do you plan to stay for a while?" He changed the subject abruptly, turning back to Obi-Wan.

"I am not sure." Came the tentative reply. "I am trying to see if I am needed elsewhere, but I have not felt the need to go anywhere else." He murmured, almost to himself.

"Then why don't you stay here for a night?" Arathorn offered.

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, then reached out for the Force, asking for reassurance. It nudges him back. "Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality." He answered after a moment. Arathorn smiled.

"It is our pleasure to have you here. You have created quite a stir in the camp. Men are beginning to refer to you as the 'phantom ranger.'" He said with a chuckle. "I have had to stave off quite a few questions."

"Is that so? Interesting. I suppose I'm not as good a phantom as I should be if they have seen me." Obi-Wan replied with a snort, which earned a hearty laugh from both of they people across from him.

"Why do you not wish for people to see your face?" Gilraen asked softly. He smiled, not offended at all.

"Because my lady, most of the time I wish for myself to remain known as a human, not an elf." He replied, pulling off his hood. "And also because I prefer not to be seen by enemies for my own added safety." He added.

Both of them studied him with interest. Even for an elf, he was quite an anomaly. His violet eyes didn't help anything, but still, his hair was enough to label him unusual. His face was milky pale, flawless, but his mid-back length hair was a dirty blonde, tinged with a few lighter streaks here and there. Not to mention that he didn't have the normal glow like elves did.

"Your eyes are very unusual." Gilraen murmured.

"They are not my natural eye color." He replied, pulling the hood back up, feeling exposed. "Another reason to hide my face. My eyes are- unnatural, but I do not remember my birth color anymore. My- mentor told me, but I cannot recall it any longer." He explained.

"Supposedly it is a side effect of suppressing my inner glow as an elf." He added. "How long have you been wed?" He changed the subject.

Respecting his feelings of discomfort, they began to tell him their story, to which Obi-Wan listened interestedly. Gilraen's face took on a sudden flash of sadness as she told him how she overrode her father's wish to deny Arathorn her hand.

Her feelings flashed through the Force. Deep sorrow and foreboding. And a memory flashed through his mind as well, from her, through the Force to him. A vision. Of shouting, and the sound of whistling arrows and cries of pain. Arathorn's voice called out his love for Gilraen, and there was the feeling of sorrow. An early death.

That night, Obi-Wan retired to his small but warm room he had been given with unease. Was that the will of the Force? He slipped into mediation on the floor, delving into the Force for answers. What was he to do next? What of his friend? Should he leave him? Or stay?

He received his answers after a while, after vague impressions that the Force let slip to him in his wanderings in its sea of mysteriousness and changing currents. Ever it was changing. Every decision changed the future, for the better or the worse, twisting the paths of the Force through time into different paths and forks. But as it has been said, knowledge of the future is dangerous. Hence his wariness.

When he finally fell asleep, lying flat on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, eyes closed in habit, he wasn't too happy, but at the same time, he wasn't too sad wither at the answers he had reviewed. For out of tragedy there usually comes a victory. And he saw the hint of the victory, and it was great.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

He left the next morning, thanking his hosts for their generosity. He bowed and clasped hands with Arathorn, and then took the lady's hand and lifted it to his lips politely. Just as his mouth pressed against her knuckles, he suddenly felt a pang of another presence enter his mind.

He suddenly asked her, "Have you been feeling odd recently, my lady?" With an odd lilt in his voice. She blinked, surprised.

"Actually, I have." She replied, sounding troubled. Obi-Wan smiled and let go of her hand politely.

"Worry not. The cause should be revealed soon. May the Valar keep you." He reminded himself not to say 'Force be with you' instead out of habit. Then he was gone. In the blink of an eye, he had disappeared into seeming thin air. In reality, he had used a force leap to jump to the roof of the house silently and leave by the back way into the surrounding woods. He left a rather bemused couple behind in the wake of his exit.

The presence he had felt was small and fresh and new- and reeked of a mighty future. The Force itself was curling around that new presence, nurturing it. The child was Force sensitive. It sent a strange feeling of relief through him.

It was oddly comforting to know that he was not the only one to be Force-sensitive from Middle Earth.


	8. Chapter 8

**forgive me that this is so late and short. I was away for several days. The next chapters will be longer, guaranteed! Thank you so much for all of the faves and follows! Please review, it makes my day that much brighter! And of course, thanks to all of my reviewers last chapter.**

Chapter 8

Obi-Wan was following the Force. Ripples of discomfort and unease were spreading through it from a point far away, and it was crashing against his mental shields so insistently that he decided to do something about it.

So he had followed it all the way to the woods of Lothlòrien, where the trees were so bright and silver with their golden leaves. He placed a hand on the bark of the tree.

'Greetings, forest of Lorien.' He had tentatively spoken to the trees. They paused in their singing and opened up to him.

'It has been a long time since any elf has spoken to us so easily, woodland elf.' One of them spoke for the others. The Force swelled slightly around the tree when it spoke.

'It is a pleasure to speak with you.' He replied simply.

'What is it that you seek young one?' He tree whispered calmly, waving its leaves questioningly. 'For you have come to find something, have you not?'

Obi-Wan marveled at their perception and connection to the Force. 'I do. I am- Dimaethor, and I seek something that even I do not know of yet.' He answered. 'Have you seen anything of concern lately?' He asked them quietly.

'Orcs. They come too close for comfort to our lands. There is a pack of them half a league from here, but a small group has just left not long ago.' They answered. The Force screamed in despair.

'Thank you. This is what I have been searching for.' He told them, in a hurry to leave.

'Hurry.' Was the only reply he got, but he needed no more encouragement. He was gone, pushing himself to his limits to get there on time. The Force was swirling again, the future being changed. The closer he got, the more it was agitated and the more it started to fork in two separate paths in the timeline.

It was many minutes before he got there, using the Force as a compass, and even then it was almost too late. Dimaethor studied the scene and itched to be set free. He begged to be released, but Obi-Wan held him back to take quick stock of the situation. He had to know who was friend and who was foe.

There were three elves already dead, and four remained, defending the lady in the middle, who looked concerned and frightened. Despair flowed through the Force to him. Ten orcs were left of fifteen, but he knew who had the upper hand. Not any more, though. He let Dimaethor take over, champing at the bit to kill.

Hood up and throwing daggers out, he went in for the kill. The elves started as a blur of black appeared in their midst. He sank into the Force, feeling every presence around him. The elves were bright, while the orcs were black and reeking of putrid darkness. He used the difference to his advantage.

The orcs were caught off guard by the new threat and disoriented. He lunged forwards smoothly, sinking a dagger into one's chest. Another leaped forwards, but he turned and the fat neck was slit a moment later. Eight left.

Two came forwards together, one heading for his head and the other his feet. Leaping up, he did a crunch in midair and came back down on top of the one sword while the other was halted in its course by application of the Force. Both fell with a swift swipe to arm and leg arteries unprotected by crude armor.

Six left. Time was ticking. It was an exercise, nothing more. Just a meditative exercise. Focus. Feel, don't think. An almost indiscernible puncture to the chest in between armor, and another dropped with not so much as a parting gurgle. Five.

He was a shadow, slipping in among their ranks before they realized it and struck like a snake from underfoot. He dropped and did a swift kick to the thigh of one. It fell, feeling lost in its legs, and was silenced swiftly as a knife made home in its neck.

A swipe across a chest. Three. They saw that it was over for them. The elves had frozen for only five seconds, and it was already almost all over. They came back to their senses and finished the rest off. Dimaethor studied the orcs for a moment in silence, then turned to the group, who was looking at him with mingled awe and wariness.

He bowed politely. "Be careful." Dimaethor advised them, not roughly. He turned to leave.

"Wait! Who can I thank for rescuing my group?" The lady asked softly. He paused, listening to her voice. It was soothing and comforting, soft and gentle like the spring rains. The Force laced her words with thankfulness and immense relief, and the whirlpool of time settled again.

"Dimaethor, ranger of the North." He answered simply, and was gone. Like a breath of wind or a whisper of the breeze, he left them to wonder where he had disappeared. It was naught but a simple Force jump into a grove of trees and from there a small leap down to the rocks and away.

Therefore his existence was known among the elves of Rivendell for the first time. He only wondered if he would regret giving them his alias. Well, as he reasoned, that was what it was for anyway. An alias. To conceal his true name. He never uttered that name. It was secret and precious to him, for it was the only thing left of his past. Obi-Wan Kenobi did just fine. It was familiar, and it was his.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Obi-Wan, in Mirkwood, is currently trying to practice a method of Force-shielding. But it is rather difficult, as he admits, without something to practice with. What is the use of trying to practice when you can't see if it is working or not?

So, submitting to the fact that he will have to try later, he sits down to meditate. But instead, there is a sudden stab in his mind. With a muffled shout, he leaped up and grasped his head, trying with difficulty to dispel the pain into the Force.

Someone is in danger, and the Force is practically screaming at him to go and help to save them, to give them aid- he leaped up and fled. Through the forest, trying to keep himself composed and cool.

The pain in his mind is uncomfortable. It does not originate from him, or from the Force, but rather from something else, that he does not want to contemplate. Why would he have a bond with someone here? All of his bonds were severed when he left the galaxy to come here, so this one has to originate from Middle Earth. But why, and with whom?

Dimaethor is itching for the fight to come, and Obi-Wan admits that he was just wishing for an opportunity to practice his shielding. But at the same time, his assassin side is warning him against people. Of any race. Whoever he helps, he must not be identified, his face must not be seen.

And so he arrives in the site, at the same time clearing his mind until it is empty and void of distractions. Tunnel vision takes over, and his instincts kick in. He is an assassin, and he will eliminate all threats. But weren't there friends? He will sense them in the Force. Concentrate.

There are two elves, he vaguely registers somewhere in his mind, stuck in a nest of spiders. But all he sees are the spiders, and the sticky strands of white webbing. There are many spiders. This is a large nest, and his mind focuses, as sharp as a razor blade, on the giant hairy things.

The Force slices through webbing like a vibro-shiv, clearing a way for the Soresu form of lightsaber combat- lithe and athletic. Flips and leaps carry him into the nest, silently and swiftly. He is a spider, crawling along the tree faces with silent fingers and leaping from branch to branch.

His mind reached out to the shadowed trees. 'Mellyn nîn, why do you allow these spiders to build their homes in your branches?' He asked them calmly, negotiation skills coming into play.

The trees stirred slightly. 'Sleep. They do us no harm.' They brushed it off.

'Perhaps, but they do mean to hurt me if they can. And besides, they are constricting you.' He said bluntly. There is no use beating around the bush. 'They are attempting to subdue you, to make you their lairs and plot against the birds and beasts that live around you and in your branches. Leeching life out of your forest.' He pointed out.

There was no more to be said. The trees, easily moved to anger, were spoken into a frenzy. 'Do not hurt the elves in there!' Obi-Wan pleaded, slightly alarmed. The trees whipped him into their branches and held him there, while they reached out, stretching their cramped limbs and ripping webs.

Spiders shrieked and attempted to scurry away, only to be snatched up by the angry shadowed trees and perish in their unloving hugs. The sound of trees groaning, spiders shrieking, and bones snapping and cracking made Obi-Wan wince and Dimaethor smile in satisfaction.

It was over in a matter of minutes, and in the aftermath came the startled sounds of the two elves. Obi-Wan thanked the trees. 'Hannon lle, Mellyn nîn.' The trees touched his shoulders and subsided, pleased with themselves. They had successfully protected their Daelas, their shadow leaf.

As he approached the two captured elves, he studied them carefully from underneath his hood. One of them was a female, her hair as red as a blood moon and her eyes an emerald green. But the other- his steps faltered slightly as he approached them.

The other was blonde, just like him, but a brighter shade then his dirty blonde. His eyes were silvery-blue, and his face- his face was so familiar. Somehow, he knew that face. In a different time, in a different life, he had known that face very well, had he not?

"Who are you?" The blonde challenged calmly, eyes sparking in wariness.

"A friend. How did you become captured here?" Obi-Wan asked concernedly, helping them get free with a brush of the Force masked by a dagger.

"A lone patrol. You are Dimaethor, are you not?" He asked, silver-blue eyes piercing the hood. Obi-Wan paused.

"I am." He brushed their minds with the Force briefly, to find them adequately shielded. But not before he identified them. "Prince, captain." He greeted them with a dip of the head.

"You are the one that saved one of the guards at the river. He said that Radagast told him of his savior, hooded in black and a secret guardian of the woods. I thought you to be a myth." The prince admitted, retrieving his weapons.

Dimaethor felt a bit awkward. Blast the wizard with his well-intended meddling. "It was only my duty to help. Be more careful next time." He said with classical Jedi reserve.

"Wait! Where are you going? These trees- they have not spoken in years. Who are you to have their allegiance?" The red head asked suspiciously.

Obi-Wan scolded himself in his mind. He had forgotten that these were wood elves. No doubt they had heard his conversation with the trees. "I must leave. I am no one, a mere ranger of the North." And he disappeared into the tops of the trees and away into the forest, to go away from Mirkwood for a while. He would have to leave, for his safety in remaining unknown.

He wasn't fool enough to think that they would forget, though.


	9. Chapter 9

**earlier then last time, as promised. Thanks to all the faves and follows! More reviews would be appreciated... Enjoy! YEAH! *fist-pumps wildly* WE'RE FINALLY HERE! Tell me if you've been waiting for this to happen... My head is exploding with a million ways this could go right and wrong... *cackles***

**Pip the Dark Lord of All: more coming up soon! XD**

**blue mountain fairy: thanks! Yes, sooo annoyingly close. **

Chapter 9

The Force is being very mysterious- again. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes and make a sarcastic comment to the effect of 'what are you going to do to me now?' and instead focus on the present.

The present being a niggling sense of a familiar presence approaching. After leaving Greenwood, or Mirkwood, he made his way to the ruins of Hollin close to the hidden valley. And there was a very familiar presence now nearing the stone shambles.

"Your presence is to be respected. It is powerful and wise." He said without turning, staring into a pool of water that had collected in the rock. The presence behind him stopped, and he could sense them leaning against a staff for support.

"You are difficult to find, Dimaethor." Gandalf replied with a heavy sigh.

Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "I am not called the 'phantom ranger' without reason." He acquiesced, turning around. "You search for me." He stated, by way of starting conversation. Gandalf sat on a stone and nodded.

"I do. I have a request of you. The adventure I have mentioned- I have started it and I am looking for someone to share it with." He said, studying the black hood keenly.

The hood did not move, but instead stayed silent for a brief second. "I see. How long until you leave? Assuming that I am not the only one is there a place to meet?" Obi-Wan asked calmly, feeling that the Force cleared at the request.

"Are you familiar with the Shire? The land of the Periannaith?" The wizard asked.

"I am." Was the answer.

"Then you will see a blue rune on the door of the house that we will meet at tomorrow eve." Gandalf said, standing.

"I will be there." He answered. The Force stirred uneasily at the mention of the 'others.' He grounded himself in the present. Tomorrow had its own troubles to worry about. He would leave them to sort themselves out, and focus on the here and now.

Out of habit, he slipped away quietly to find a place to meditate on the pending journey to Force-knows-where-and-why. Gandalf was left to wonder more about this mysterious 'phantom ranger.' He leaned on his staff for a moment, contemplating.

There was something familiar about the elf's aura that he could not place. Why did he keep his hood up? But he could be trusted. His aura was blazing with light, the wizard could not deny. Albeit it was tinged with grey, it was light. There was no doubt.

But then again, he mused as he turned to leave, maybe he would find out more about this enigma on their journey. It was time to take back a kingdom that had been lost for years. If only he knew what things he would be stirring up as a result.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was rather concerned as he searched the Force. Ripples of discomfort, unease, and really in all honesty, the dark side of the Force were spreading through the future, grappling for a hold.

The Unifying Force was full of premonitions, and as a result of him being strong in it, he had visions every night. Short ones most of the time, granted, and vague, but there nonetheless. And they were more and more disturbing every night. He did not like it. But what could he do? Time will run its course.

But as he searched the Force for reassurance to go on this adventure, what he got was not what he was expecting. There was no doubt he was to go, but that was not what surprised him. What surprised him was the manner in which the answer was presented in.

A very amused Force, he later thought to himself, surely cannot be a good thing- can it?

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The Shire, Obi-Wan muses to himself, is a place of such peace. Such fresh, untainted innocence. Almost too good to be true. Truly, the here is a place where greed is not known, where contentment for the menial things in life is the only thing that is wanted, and family is cherished.

If only more people would be as the Shire folk are. Then perhaps the world would be a better place. There would be no need for ones like him. And yet, that is a frightening thought at the same time.

For does evil not seek to have a foothold in the world? Such a place would be brought to utter ruin and twisted to become a house for untold horrors. Obi-Wan snorted to himself.

Why must he always think about the down side of things? Not that his job helped any, he thought with bitter amusement. He was becoming as bad as the council, really. His poor master, having to deal with the council. And vice versa, as he readily admitted.

It was evening, and he had come as promised, to find the house. Now the Force was nervous. It wrung fingered tendrils together in anxiety, and plinks of sound echoed through it like sweat drops. Obi-Wan centered himself.

A blue rune indeed, he scoffed inwardly. That is like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack here. But after a small search in the Force, he found what he was looking for. A round green door, in a round green hill, with a glowing blue rune etched on the face of the green paint.

Perhaps he was a little late. There was loud noise from the inside, and he paused to listen before knocking.

"You have not yet stated who the sixteenth member is, Gandalf." A gruff voice demanded from within. Hmm, so there were sixteen members, were there? He knocked, hood up, as always. Fair hands were cloaked in dark gloves and a bow and quiver full of arrows was displayed on his back prominently.

"Ah, and I believe that he is here. The door, if you would be so kind, dear Bilbo?" Gandalf's raspy voice made his lips quirk. The door opened, making him blink briefly in slight surprise at the silence of the hobbit. Had he really been that absent-minded to not feel his presence approach the door?

He made a slight bow out of polite habit to the hobbit. "At your service, Bilbo Baggins." He murmured quietly. The hobbit, half-frightened by the darkly-clad figure, bowed in return and opened the door wider.

Obi-Wan stepped in and smiled gently. It was a beautiful home, warm and bright. Very nicely decorated as well, he had to admit. He made his way, following the hobbit, to a dining room crowded with- dwarves!?

Not that he had the animosity towards them that he can recall that his kin had, since he had dealings with many different life-forms before; but nonetheless, he knew that he would not be well-accepted by the dwarves if they knew that he was an elf.

The dwarves shuffled warily as soon as they saw the black cloak and hood. "I have come as you have requested, Gandalf." He addressed the wizard, who nodded.

"Indeed, and I thank you. This is the leader of our quest to reclaim the lonely mountain, Thorin Oakenshield." He introduced a grim dwarf who surveyed him with barely-concealed hostility. Suspicion reeked off of him in the Force.

"So that is what you intend to do. A noble purpose. Dimaethor, at your service." He greeted the rightful King under the mountain. He knew. The Force-presence of this dwarf practically screamed royalty. It was in his blood, thick and untainted. And oddly similar to the one he had felt in Dol-Guldur. A relative, perhaps?

"Why do you hide your face?" Thorin asked gruffly.

He stiffened, but as always, according to standards, remained polite. "I do not look very normal to the eyes." Was his calm reply. "And I choose to keep my identity hidden from those who would harm me, as ranger of the north."

Thorin grunted, but let off reluctantly at the sharp look from Gandalf. "And what is your choice of weapon? Your name is elvish." He snarled the last part bitterly. That was a problem.

"It is not a name, but a title, master dwarf." He said, a small smile in his tone. "If it displeases you, then you may call me by my name of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Or Shadow, if you prefer. My choice of weaponry is my two blades, throwing daggers, bow and arrows- and other smaller things." He added vaguely, but concisely.

"Good. We need all the skill we can get." Thorin eyed the newcomer warily. "As I assume you are skilled."

"Dimaethor could disarm you in a moment, and kill half of you before you quite knew what was happening." Gandalf interjected smoothly. Obi-Wan gave him a sharp glance, which he knew the grey Istar could feel.

'You are not the only one to know of what you know, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Many wonders are seen and known by the Vala and Maia.' The wizard's voice echoed in his mind. Obi-Wan became contemplative. That was convenient, then. He would not need to explain the concept of a lightsaber to him, then. Or the Force.

"Impossible." A dwarf with a bald top and tattoos everywhere scoffed. His mouth quirked.

"Perhaps then you will come to rethink your disbelief on our journey, Dwalin. Dimaethor- Shadow, these are the members of the company of Thorin Oakenshield. Kili, Fili, his nephews; Dwalin and Balin, the warrior brothers; Oin and Gloin; Ori, Nori, and Dori, the Ri brothers; Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur, also brothers. And of course, Bilbo Baggins." Mithrandir motioned to each. Obi-Wan nodded to each.

"Of course. A pleasure to meet you all." He took a seat on the floor by the door.

They returned to the planning. Well, at least now the Force was less nervous. Obviously it had gone rather well.

"We leave tomorrow morning." Gandalf finished.

The dwarves began to disperse, and Obi-Wan made his way next to the wizard. "I will meet you on the road in the morning." He said lowly. Gandalf nodded, and he slipped into a dark corner of the house where he would not be so easily seen or heard. He would sleep under the stars tonight, but first he wanted to listen.

"Do you think he can be trusted?" A dwarf asked skeptically.

"If Gandalf does, why shouldn't we?" Fili, was it? Asked sensibly.

"What makes you think he won't turn on us in our journey? He didn't even sign the contract." Dwalin asked gruffly.

"I do not think Gandalf would take that risk." Kili stood up for the wizard.

"Be on your guard and say nothing. He will have to earn our trust, if anything." Thorin growled, sitting down by the fireplace. The conversation ceased. Pipes were lit and Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the sharp smell of the pipe weed.

And then Thorin began to sing. Obi-Wan listened. And he heard the hearts in the voices. The emotion. And he made his decision. Yes, he would protect this company of dwarves.

For he knew, like them, what it was like to loose your home. And he would see to it that he would do all in his power to help them get it back.

As he slipped out into the muggy night air, he wondered exactly what kind of mission he had gotten himself into this time. He was an assassin, not a warrior. He stayed in the shadows. Well, perhaps that was the best. He would stay in the shadows. Yes, and he would protect them from hidden menaces.


	10. Chapter 10

**next chapter. Sorry it took me a while. Anyway, here you go. I'm really exited to begin this journey. Hope you are too! **

**Blue mountain fairy: thank you! I'm so glad to hear you say that and hope I won't disappoint. XD**

**Pip the Dark. Lord of All: yep. But then, Obs told me not to tell till later, so I have to obey him. Yes master! **

Chapter 10

"It seems as though our mysterious member has decided to leave us." Thorin's dry voice informed Gandalf.

Obi-Wan dropped from the trees where he had been following them. "I have not. Thank you for your trust." He replied with slight humor. "Good morning." And he leaped back into the trees.

"Do you think the burglar will come?" Bofur spoke up after a moment of silence. So the dwarves began to bet. Obi-Wan's lips twisted in amusement as the Force laughed merrily.

"What do you say, Shadow?" Kili suddenly spoke up. Obi-Wan chuckled wryly.

"I neither bet nor ask for anything, but I say that he will come." He answered promptly.

"As do I." Gandalf spoke up. Obi-Wan raised an incredulous eyebrow at the wizard, who gave him a grin. The cheater. He knew that Obi-Wan had access to the Force. Cheater, yes, although he would never say that to the wizard, oh no. He rather valued his intact status, thank you. He had no intention of dying now after surviving for so long already... Sort of.

And truly, it was not a moment too soon. "Wait! Wait! I signed it." Bilbo came up the road, panting and handing the contract to Balin after finishing windmilling it around. The poor piece of paper. Gandalf gave him an amused look, and he knew that his attempt to send the thought to the wizard had succeeded.

"Get him a pony." A clearly unimpressed Throin wheeled about again and trotted off. It would be rather satisfactory to see him fall off, and give the poor horse some relief, he thought wryly.

"Shadow." Gandalf's reprimanding tone did not fool him. He caught the underlying humor and merely chuckled in response, to the bemusement of the dwarves and increased nervousness of the hobbit.

Bags of coins and groans began to circulate among the dwarves, to the hobbit's bewilderment. "What is that all about?" He asked Gandalf.

"Ah, well, they bet on whether you would come or not." Was his glib reply.

"And you?" Bilbo's tone was a bit out out, to Obi-Wan's amusement.

"Well..." The wizard pretended to be abashed, and then caught a pouch with a chuckle. "I never doubted you, dear fellow." He chuckled at the hobbit's affronted face as it mellowed, mollified.

"My apologies, master Baggins, if I have caused you any- discomfort." Obi-Wan dropped from his perch in the trees and walked beside the pony.

"Oh. Well- I- thank you- I meant no offense-" Bilbo's stammered, until Obi-Wan placed a hand on the flustered hobbit's shoulder with a chuckle.

"Ah, no need for that. I did not mean to cause you any pains. Let us be friends, if you will, Bilbo, and call me as you wish." He added, divining his thoughts.

"Thank you- Shadow." Bilbo decided. He nodded and slipped farther behind the group, still on the ground.

Thorin motioned for Gandalf, who obliged. "What can you tell me about this- ranger. Of what race is he?" He asked lowly. Gandalf sighed.

"It will do you no good to question me about him, Thorin, for there are some things I cannot answer and some things that I am in the dark in as much as you. Ask him yourself, and he will answer as he sees fit." The wizard replied loudly, for the benefit of the dwarves. Obi-Wan lifted his hood to show that he was listening.

"Of what race are you then, Shadow?" Thorin finally asked deliberately.

"Does it matter? I am many races, and none. I am one race, and yet all. And I have the feeling that dwarf, elf, or man, you would not accept me except for Gandalf's sake." He answered calmly. The dwarves were silent.

Then, "Who exactly are you?" Came the unexpected question from Bilbo,memo was surveyed with surprise. He blushed a bit, but explained, while Gandalf and Obi-Wan exchanged somewhat humored glances.

"I meant, what are you? Gandalf is a wizard, I'm supposed to be a burglar, the dwarves are warriors or princes or kings... But what are you?" He asked. Everyone looked to Obi-Wan for an answer, while he mused for a moment.

He reached out to the Force, and let it guide him in his answer. After a moment, he finally opened his mouth. "You are more perceptive then people give you credit for, master Baggins." He stated, and the Force suddenly gave a sharp twinge of premonition that nearly knocked him off his feet and left him breathless and reeling. As it was, he stood stock still for a moment, breath coming in a quick gasp and then rasps.

"Shadow?" Oin, ever the healer, asked with a frown. Obi-Wan grounded himself in the present, coming back to and using the healer's voice as an anchor. He shook his head and walked on forcibly, though no one but Gandalf knew that.

"I am fine. Forgive me, I had a thought. To continue, I am- well, let us say that I am a guardian of sorts." Then he chuckled at his own vagueness. He was no better then the council really now, was he.

His mien darkened slightly. "Let us leave it at that for the moment. Perhaps when, or if, I prove to you that I will not murder you in your sleep, I can give you a specific title. But suffice it to say that I am a guardian, much like a wizard would be, though I have no magic, only my own hard-earned skills." He finished, falling into contemplation.

"I doubt you could do such a thing, for all that Gandalf says." Dwalin replied roughly.

His hood lifted slightly, and everyone, even Dwalin and Thorin, saw the wintery smile on his face. And each and everyone quailed at it, though they could not quite place why. It was the most terrifying smile that they had and would ever see.

"Ah, is that so? Well then, I'm glad to inform you that since you are not orcs, you have no reason to find out for yourself first hand." Obi-Wan said, not condescendingly, but rather very mildly, which made it that much more terrifying. The rest of the day's journey was spent studiously avoiding the ranger for the time being and speaking to one another over anything but him.

Gandalf thought to himself much, head bowed and muttering under his breath, while Obi-Wan kept careful guard over the group and their surroundings.

"Ah choo! All this horse hair... Having a reaction... Wait, stop! We have to turn around!" Bilbo called.

"Whatever is the matter?" Gandalf stirred out of his thoughts.

"I forgot my handkerchief!" Was the reply. There were groans and laughs all around, to Obi-Wan's wry amusement.

"Here, use this!" And Bofur went on with a smirk, leaving the dwarves to laugh hysterically at the absolutely disgusted look on the hobbit's face as he held the old cloth.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

The place where they finally stopped, or cave, if you cared to be precise, was not particularly comforting to Obi-Wan. There were far too many memories of caves that he had to be comfortable.

Melida-Daan, various other missions and scrapes, escapades, and- that one time- he cut his thoughts off and diffused his raw feelings into the Force, calming himself. No. He must not think upon it. It was the one time he had come too close to using his rage upon someone.

He still had nightmares at times, though admittedly they were few and far between. His screams of torture at the hands of Jenna Zan Arbor, and grief for his fellow Nautolian Padawan who had been blinded by the venture. No. He would not think of it.

As was his habit, he stood guard, hands tucked into the sleeves of his cloak and feet spread apart, posture stiff. "You should get some walked all day." Thorin's voice was grudging but held good-intent nonetheless.

He turned the profile of his hood to the King and dipped his head in respect. "I respect who you are, lord, but I am not obligated to obey everything. I am under your command because of this quest, but I prefer to stand guard for the night." He answered, voice as polite as always although there was something in his tone that was authoritative at the same time.

Thorin nodded and went to sit down. "I do not know what to think of him." Obi-Wan's ears picked up the quiet discussion between Balin and Thorin.

"He is ever polite, haven't you noticed? His mannerisms are that of a negotiator or ambassador of sorts. But at the same time he is certainly not. He is a warrior, aye, more than that, born and bred for warfare." Balin went on. There was a pause.

"True. I cannot think of what he truly could be, but I do think he has his standards. Most of the company already trust him, for his words are fair and seemingly guileless. I know not what to make of it, but I will wait." Thorin admitted, and the conversation was adjourned.

Obi-Wan stood, grim and unmoving, but thinking, violet eyes gazing thoughtfully upon the scene in front of him, though they saw nothing but rather felt it all. The pines in the breeze. His thought caressed the rough bark of the trees. His mind felt the cool stone all around.

So they did not fully trust him yet. He had expected that, of course, and was far from offended. A smile twisted his mouth, a tinge bitter. For even in the Galaxy he hand grown up in he had been hidden. Hidden. To say the least. Carefully screened.

Not many knew of his existence, though all in the temple itself did. Not many outside. His eyes darkened slightly to a shade of deeper violet. Those who had were few and far between indeed. For example a few select senators. And those who otherwise had were most likely all dead.

His eyes fluctuated again, but this time back to a lighter shade of violet. Yes, few of the living indeed.

A scream pierced the night air, but he remained calm. His elven ears picked up the sound from a distance far and safe enough away not to cause any alarm. The force remained calm and placid.

"W-what was that?" Their burglar stammered nervously, from where he has been surreptitiously trying to give his pony Myrtle an apple, to Obi-Wan's vague amusement.

"Orcs." Kili piped up, a tone in his voice that made him frown. It should not be that much tinged with humor.

"Throat cutters. There should be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them." Fili says, much too nonchalantly for Obi-Wan's like.

"They strike in the wee hours of the morning, no screams, just lots of blood." Kili finished, and he began to snicker quietly with his brother. Obi-Wan felt immensely displeased and almost stirred. They should not tease the already white-faced hobbit.

"You think a night raid by an orc is a joke? You think its funny?" Thorin stood.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili said quietly, ashamed.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Thorin replied, coming to stand somewhat beside Obi-Wan and glower silently. Obi-Wan stirred.

"Listen to your uncle. Despite that your intentions were lighthearted, do not be carried away by the things you choose to joke about. We all need light hearts, but something's cannot be rightly taken in jest." He said softly, although his tone spoke thousands of words more. It was filled with the quiet sorrow of the past that ran deep and revealed a scarred person.

There was a moment of silence. "He's right. But don't be too ashamed, lads. Thorin has more cause to hate orcs then most." Balin said, standing and leaning against the stone wall.

And as he told the story, Obi-Wan listened. And their memories, projected through the Force, took him away to the past, each emotion flowing through him as though it was his own.

"That, I thought to myself, was someone I could follow. Someone I could call King." The words brought him back to the present and he found his hand on the dwarf leader's shoulder.

He squeezed it briefly in respect, and let it go. The King gave a still nod and turned, to find all of the members of his company standing in respect. It was not until morning that Obi-Wan finally moved from his stone still stance of thought, and that only because he went to wake everyone up on request of Gandalf.


	11. Chapter 11

**neeeext! Hope you enjoy this! Ell me what you think. And as always thanks for all of the follows, faves, and reviews. More of the last would be appreciated... XD**

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Chapter 11

Obi-Wan is struggling between amusement and annoyance. Annoyance from the fact that he cannot use the Force to keep himself dry for the presence of the dwarves, and at the same time amusement at the grumbling dwarves.

"Mr. Gandalf, can't you do anything about this deluge?" Dori asked above the winds.

"It is raining, master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until it is done. If you want to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." Gandalf retorted.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked. "Other wizards?" He elaborated on second thought.

"There are five. The greatest of our order is Saruman the white, then there are the two blue wizards- you know, I've quite forgotten their names." Gandalf said musingly. Obi-Wan reached into the Force.

"Alandir and Pallando." He supplied.

"Ah, yes, that was it, thank you Shadow." Gandalf agreed with a nod. "And then there is Radagast the brown." He added.

"Is he a great wizard? Or is he- more like you?" Bilbo asked, making Obi-Wan chuckle at the retribution for the invasion of the hobbit's home.

"I think he's a great wizard in his own way." Gandalf defended himself. "He prefers to remain in the forests, caring for the animals and plants. Shadow himself has met him as well."

Obi-Wan gave a curt nod. "Yes. He is a kind wizard, albeit admittedly sometimes befuddled." He added wryly.

"And if you're so supposedly powerful, can you do something about this rain?" Dwalin called from the front. Obi-Wan sighed inwardly.

"I cannot stop the rain, master Dwalin, but since you asked, perhaps I can help a little." He conceded, and used a simple Force-shield, making the rain stop pelting them and instead seem to change directions as though hitting a dome and sliding away. There were several gasps.

"So you're a Mage?" Thorin asked sharply.

"No. I am not. There is no magic in it." He replied curtly, and strode into the woods next to the group, choosing to scout in the trees.

"Gandalf, how can there be no magic in it?" Kili asked curiously.

"There are other forces in this world besides magic that can be accessed if you have the means to do so." Was the reply.

"So it is dark power?" Fili asked warily.

"Dark? No. But it has, like all magic, even mine, a dark side and a light side. Using magic is dangerous, Fili, for one can be easily be turned to the dark side." Gandalf replied. There was no more words after that for a while, while Obi-Wan thanked the Gandalf for his defense and a basis to explain the Force.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

They found place to stop for the day, and Thorin ordered them about making camp. Gandalf went in and poked among the ruins nearby, as did Obi-Wan, albeit in a different way.

He reaches out to the Force and scans the burned out remains of what was obviously a house. The Living Force brings to him a faint vision of what was once before. Screams, the rough jeers of orcs, the crackle of a fire.

He pulled out, uneasy. "A farmer and his family used to live here. Death has touched his place." Gandalf muttered. Obi-Wan nodded.

"I think it would be wiser of we moved on. We can make for the hidden valley." Gandalf turned to Thorin, who had come behind them.

"I told you already, I will not go near that place." Thorin retorted sourly.

"Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice." Gandalf argued.

"Advice? We do not need-"

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us." Gandalf interrupted.

"Help? Dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred holes, and the elves looked on and did nothing. You would ask me to seek help from those who betrayed my grandfather, my kin?" Thorin asked lowly in anger.

"You are neither of them. Rivendell had nothing to do with you. They are not Mirkwood. I did not give you that map and key so that you could hold on to the past." Gandalf said, put out.

"I did not know that they were yours to keep." Thorin retorted.

"Is everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?" Bilbo asked the furious wizard who was storming away.

"To seek the company of the only one who's got any sense here!" The infuriated wizard fumed.

"Who's that?" Bilbo asked, bewildered.

"Besides myself, Shadow, master Baggins!" Gandalf bellowed, and marched away. Obi-Wan, seeing the silent invitation, gratefully took it and followed after quietly.

"Forgive his temper. Wizards tend to be this way. If you need help, remember to use all of your despair and call for help. I will hear." Obi-Wan bowed and raised his hood enough for them to see his slight smile and then slipped quietly away into the woods.

He met up with Gandalf a little ways away to see the wizard muttering about 'dwarves and their thrice-damned stubbornness.'

"Perhaps, but you have to admit that they are loyal to a fault." Obi-Wan chuckled.

Gandalf humphed. "A large fault." But he was smiling nonetheless. "Wizards tend to be so, hmm?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

"What can I say? It's the best excuse." Obi-Wan defended himself with mock-affront.

"Indeed." And they went into hearty laughter.

"Tell me, Dimaethor, how strong are you in the... 'Force.'" Gandalf asked after another moment.

"My midi-chlorian count is 17,000 if that is what you are asking, but it seems to me that the Force here is different. I may be stronger than I was before." He replied.

"Hmm. I see. And why do you hide yourself? Surely the elves-"

"No, Gandalf. The elves will not accept me unless I have a family. Do you think that they will accept a lone elf-assassin with powers that they cannot understand? A ranger? No, I cannot." Obi-Wan interrupted softly.

"Perhaps you are right." Gandalf sighed.

"I do not feel it is time, Gandalf. The day will come, and when it does I will do so, but it is not today." Obi-Wan said. They walked along in relative silence for a few minutes.

"Do you-" but Obi-Wan held up a hand for silence. The Force suddenly screamed in despair, and a familiar voice called for help, leaving his senses ringing.

"Bilbo. They are in trouble." Obi-Wan said hurriedly. "Come." And he winged away as fast as he could back the way they came, the wizard following after in a hurry.

He moved through the forest, unseen, tracing the residues in the Force back to their source.

A shriek of warning made him stop short and listen. "No, you're making a mistake! With the seasoning, I mean." Bilbo's voice made him stop, confused. Seasoning? What seasoning? What did it matter?

"What about the seasonin'?" A rough voice asked. Ah. Trolls. This far south? Odd.

Giving Gandalf a glance, the wizard nodded and motioned with his head towards the voices. Obi-Wan nodded and sneaked quietly over to the bushes, parting them and peering down on the scene. Three trolls, thirteen dwarves, and one hobbit, in sacks and some on a spit. He stifled a sigh.

"The secret to cooking dwarf-" Bilbo was saying- "is to- to-" he faltered and Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. The trolls had to be daft not to see what the hobbit was doing.

"Is what?" The troll demanded.

"Yes, yes, I'm telling you- it's to-" he rolled his eyes and caught sight of Obi-Wan, who nodded and lifted and finger to his lips. "To skin them first!" Bilbo acted pleased with himself and nodded at the trolls.

"What!?" "Traitor!" "I won't forget that!" The dwarves cried.

"Tom, get to my filleting knife." One gestured.

"Nonsense." Tom retorted. "I've eaten me with skin and all before." He snorted.

"Yeah, nothin' wrong with a bit o' raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy." Another squeaky-voiced one said, lifting Bombur up, who squirmed and yelled.

"No, no, not that one! He's- he's infected! With- parasites!" Bilbo yelled, panicked. The smaller troll squealed and threw him back down, eliciting groans from the unfortunate ones he had landed on top of.

"In fact, they're all infected, risky business, really." Bilbo advised.

"Parasites!? I don't have parasites, you have parasites!" Kili yelled. Gandalf, already moving for the rocks, snorted quietly and Obi-Wan had to agree. Daft, all of them.

There was a muffled thump, and a silence fell. "I have parasites!" "I have them as big as my arm!" "Mine are biggest!"

Obi-Wan groaned out loud this time. Oh for Force's sake, the trolls weren't that dumb. "What would you have us do, then, let 'em all go?" One troll sneered at Bilbo.

"Well..." The hobbit shuffled.

"This ones takin' us for fools 'e is. The little ferret." He scoffed, turning the spit.

"Ferret!?" Bilbo took offense. At the wrong time. Obi-Wan sighed.

Gandalf appeared on the rock face, Obi-Wan behind him.

"'Oo are they?" One troll asked.

"Don't know." The other shook his head.

"Can we eat him too?" The youngest asked.

"The dawn take you all!" Gandalf declared, and slammed his staff onto the rock. It cracked, and sunlight streamed into the cave. The trolls squawked and screamed, but finally turned into stone.

The dwarves cheered wildly. "Get your foot out of my back!" Dwalin yelled. Obi-Wan sighed aloud.

"And you expected them to survive how?" He addressed Gandalf dryly.

"By having you accompany them." The wizard retorted.

"I'm not too keen on having any wards." He replied mildly.

"We don't need any guardian!" A dwarf yelled.

"Nasty business." Gandalf noted, tapping the stone head of the troll.

"Sounds hollow. Looks like more then just their stomachs were empty." Obi-Wan snorted, to which the dwarves spared a laugh.

"No thanks to your burglar." Thorin said gruffly.

"He had the nous to play for time. None of you thought of that." Gandalf defended.

Thorin gave a nod of acquiescence. "Where did you go?" He addressed them both.

"Scouting ahead." Gandalf replied.

"What brought you back?" Thorin queried.

"Looking behind." Was the answer. Obi-Wan chuckled.

"Strange that trolls come so far down the mountain." He noted.

"They must have come from the Ettenmoors." Thorin rumbled.

"Yes. There has not been trolls here since a darker age." Gandalf mused. The Force stirred in ominous agreement.

"They could not have moved in broad daylight." Thorin pointed out. "There must be a cave nearby."

They found the cave and Obi-Wan wasn't the only one gagging at the smell. Using a Force-shield, he managed to damper it a bit. Then he looked around curiously, as did the others.

"Troll hoard. Be careful of what you touch." Gandalf warned. Obi-Wan mused thoughtfully. This place was full of relics, he could feel it. Age congealed around several items hidden here.

Thorin and Gandalf picked up two swords. Obi-Wan noticed an elven dagger and picked it up, unsheathing it. It had scrolls on it and slightly gleamed a bright blue that faded a right after as he touched it. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to the other two.

"You could not ask for a better sword." Gandalf was scolding Thorin. The sword was curved, with a wooden hilt and single-edged. Something stirred in his mind, and the Force flared in recognition. He knew that sword, or at least had heard of it somewhere.

"Wait. May I see that sword for a moment?" He asked. Thorin blinked, and handed it over. As soon as his hand touched the hilt, the jewels on the scabbard suddenly flared and the sword, as he lifted it out, glowed faint blue, runes glowing golden.

His eye was drawn to the runes. The language was written in ancient elvish, but a memory of it unlocked from somewhere and he found himself able to read it.

"Orcrist, sword of Lord Ecthelion of the Fountain." He read aloud. Gandalf started.

"Ecthelion? His name sounds familiar..." Obi-Wan murmured, and then handed the sword back.

"Do you not want it?" Thorin asked.

"Keep it. It is an exceptional sword, that much is obvious. I have my own and I have no need or wish to replace them." He answered, so Thorin nodded and clipped it to his belt. He handed the dagger to Gandalf, who nodded and headed out of the cave. But he didn't miss the thoughtful look on Gandalf's face as he went out.

"Someone's coming!" Thorin suddenly shouted a moment later as he came out, and gave a glance to Obi-Wan as though accusing him of not warning them.

But Obi-Wan knew who it was, and a smile appeared on his face as he calmly followed after the group, hands tucked in the voluptuous sleeves of his robe.

"Thieves, fire, murder!" Radagast the Brown yelled, bursting into the clearing with his rabbit sled. The dwarves stared as Gandalf came forward.

"Radagast the brown! What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked. The dwarves took that as assurance and glanced suspiciously to Obi-Wan.

"You knew who it was." Thorin stated. He nodded and walked away to hear their conversation.

"Ah, Dimaethor, good to see you again." Radagast nodded absently and looked harried.

"Meddling wizard, we meet again." But his voice was teasing. Radagast huffed.

"The animals talk of you, Dimaethor, I only spread the word of the guardian of the forest." He huffed. Obi-Wan tossed up his hands in defeat, making them chuckle.

He listened with growing trepidation to the report Radagast had to give, mien growing darker. Just as they finished and he was about to speak, there was howl.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked, spooked. "Are there wolves in these woods?" He asked.

"Wolf? No, that's no wolf." Bofur laughed hysterically.

There was a snarl and a warning from the Force, and out of instinct Obi-Wan leaped forwards and threw a dagger, catching the warg in the chest and downing it immediately. "Behind you!" He shouted to Kili without looking, just as the dwarf whipped around and got it with an arrow. Dwalin used his hammer and spilled the warg's squirms. Obi-Wan called his dagger to his hand as Gandalf strode forwards.

"Warg scouts! Which means a pack is not far behind us!" Thorin exclaimed.

"Who did you tell of your quest besides your kin?" Gandalf demanded.

"No one." Thorin replied

"Who did you tell!?" Gandalf reiterated.

"No one, I swear! What in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin asked irritably.

"You are being hunted." Obi-Wan answered darkly.

"I'll draw them off." Radagast offered.

"You cannot outrun them, these are Gundabad wargs!" Gandalf retorted, concerned.

"And these are Rhosgobel rabbits. I'd like to see them try." Radagast answered hotly.

"A little suggestion..." Obi-Wan put in mildly. Everyone looked to him expectantly.

"Why don't we trust a wizard and book it already?" He quipped pointedly. Gandalf gave an exasperated sigh and nodded.

"Go." And with that, they took off.

'Book it?' Gandalf muttered through the Force. Obi-Wan just snickered.


	12. Chapter 12

**okay! Next chapter up! Darkdragondude1234 wrote me a PM and kicked me into gear, so thanks to him for giving me incentive to write! Thank you all for all of the reviews, and please enjoy this new chapter! As an apology for being so long, I have made this one a little longer than normal.**

**Obi-Wan: shame, Kiya. You should have updated sooner.**

**me: oh hush dear assassin mine, and get on with the disclaimer.**

**Obi-Wan: *sigh* KiyaJinnSkywalkerKenobi owns nothing, all belongs to Star Wars and LOTR's respective owners and creators. **

**Me : pity really. I don't even own you. Don't I wish?**

**obi-Wan: *places arm around me comfortingly* don't feel too bad. The world will never have to go through such horror.**

**me: Obi-Wan Kenobi! *chases after fleeing Jedi* *calls over shoulder* review and enjoy!**

Chapter 12

They ran through the woods quickly, dodging the wargs and trying to stay out of sight. Once in a while, Obi-Wan caught sight of Radagast on his sled, dipping and dodging the lack on his heels.

"Stay together!" Gandalf shouted as they ducked behind yet another group of rocks. Obi-Wan's lips thinned underneath his hood. There was no chance that they were getting out of there without being seen.

"Where are you taking us?" Thorin asked Gandalf suspiciously. Gandalf just gave the dwarven leader a look that screamed 'annoyance' and took off again with a sigh. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Annoyance could only mean one thing. They were headed for an elven kingdom.

And judging by location, Imladris. He stiffened slightly as they ran, mind frantically wheeling. He reached out into the Force for guidance. Should he make himself known? Or should he stay away from the hidden valley? The Force showed him a brief glimpse of an elf with dark hair, and he had his answer.

"Ori, no!" Thorin grabbed the dwarf and yanked him back behind the rocks they had stopped behind briefly. They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the loud breathing of the dwarves. Just then, there was a growl and scuffling above them. Thorin shot Kili a look.

Obi-Wan discreetly pulled an arrow off of his back and notched it into his bow. In tandem, he and Kili stepped out, Kili shooting the warg and Obi-Wan nailing the orc in the neck. The orc wasn't a problem any more. But he hissed under his breath as the warg howled and thrashed, finally being stilled by Dwalin's hammer.

"They will have heard that. There's no more time, run!" Gandalf shouted, making them bolt, but it was too late.

They were trapped in a flat area, hemmed in on all sides by rocks and warg riders. They formed a circle, holding weapons at the ready.

"We're surrounded!" Fili yelled.

"Where's Gandalf?" A dwarf asked.

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin growled.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin yelled. Obi-Wan was sorely tempted to face-palm. They would never make it out at this rate. As though to prove his thoughts, Ori shot a stone at a warg, which ricocheted off of its skull harmlessly and only proved to make it angrier. The orcs cackled.

"Oh for crying out loud." Obi-Wan groaned, pulling out a throwing star. With flawless precision, he threw it and it landed perfectly in a warg's skull with a sickening scrunch, crushing its rider underneath it. Using the Force, he called the star back to him and pulled out his throwing daggers.

"Kili, arrows!" Thorin yelled, ignoring for the time being the mysterious flying star in favor of their lives. Obi-Wan was now limited in his skills with the 'help' of Kili. He couldn't throw himself into the fight without having to beware of the arrows. He couldn't go into assassin mode either, unless he wanted to risk any of the dwarves getting accidentally hurt by a redirected weapon or body.

"Over here, you fools!" Gandalf shouted, popping up from behind some rocks.

"Kili!" Thorin killed a warg that attempted to get past to the jumping dwarves. Obi-Wan grabbed the dwarf's hand and used a Force-boost to manage to run at superhuman speed to the rocks, almost literally tossing him in before standing guard.

"Get in." He said tersely to Thorin, who sheathed Orcrist and jumped in without hesitation. With a parting arrow shot, he also leaped in after them, rolling once at the bottom and smoothly getting back up to his feet without so much as a moment's hesitation.

Horns suddenly blow from above, and the sound of hooves galloping and warg and orc shrieks sounded loudly, echoing through their cave. An orc suddenly tumbled into their hiding spot and everyone tensed, weapons at the ready.

Gandalf nudged the body with his staff, and when it didn't move Thorin pulled the arrow put of its skull. "Elves." He spat, throwing the thing down like he had been burned by it. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and tucked the arrow into his own quiver.

"I cannot see where the path leads- do we follow it?" Dwalin shouted from the path he had been peering at.

"Follow it of course!" Bofur exclaimed, shouldering his own war hammer and marching through boldly.

Obi-Wan trailed behind Gandalf. 'You know that this path leads to Imladris.' He wasn't even accusing. It was just a statement of fact.

'Yes.' Gandalf gave him a glance.

'And what will our ever-so-accepting leader say to this?' He asked sarcastically, causing the wizard to roll his eyes in reply.

'We have no other choice.' Gandalf replied tartly.

'I never said the contrary. I have been there before, though no elf knew of it.' He said mildly.

They were at the end of the path, so all Gandalf had time to do was give him a startled glance before they came out onto a ledge overlooking the city.

"The Valley of Imladris. Known by a different name in the common tongue." Gandalf stated, leaning on his staff. Obi-Wan smiled lightly and tucked his hands into his sleeves, breathing in the air and the Force.

"Rivendell." Bilbo breathed from beside him.

"Here lies the last homely house east of the sea." Gandalf agreed.

"This was your plan all along. To seek refuge with our enemies." Thorin said with barely-concealed rage.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Gandalf replied wearily.

"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us." Thorin retorted lowly. A pang of disagreement went through the Force.

"Of course they will, but we have questions that need to be answered." Gandalf retorted. Thorin sighed in defeat.

"If we are to be successful this needs to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm." He added, moving on. "Which is why you will leave the talking to me." He finished. "Come along now!" He called, making his way down to the city.

The dwarves followed, Obi-Wan in the back as always, next to Bilbo. "You seem very wary, my friend." Obi-Wan noted to Bilbo. The hobbit looked up and blinked, then looked back down nervously.

"Well, I've never been around elves before." He replied quietly. "And I was rather hoping that the first time wouldn't be around dwarves." He muttered, though Obi-Wan caught it. He chuckled.

"Well rest in peace, Bilbo. You may stand beside me if it comforts you any. No matter the disguise, the elves will know the aura of one of their own." He told Bilbo in a low tone so only they could hear. Bilbo looked startled.

"You are-?" He asked. The hood nodded.

"Indeed. Though I assume it would be best if we keep that between ourselves." He murmured. Bilbo nodded, looking as though he had much to think about. They finally arrived at the entrance of the city, crossing a bridge that reminded Obi-Wan of the catwalks of Naboo's power plants.

At the stairs that led up to the city an elf in deep blue and cream robes with a simple circlet on his head walked down slowly, robes sweeping the steps behind him.

"Mithrandir." The elf greeted.

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf held out his hand with a smile.

"We heard you had crossed into the valley." Lindir spoke in elvish, and Obi-Wan translated for Bilbo through a mental touch. Bilbo looked startled as the Jedi placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Do not worry. The others cannot hear us, and I do not read your thoughts.' A squeeze, and then the hand relaxed. Bilbo relaxed as well involuntarily.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Gandalf requested.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." Lindir answered in Westron.

"Not here? Where is he?" The wizard asked, puzzled. An elvish horn suddenly blew behind them as they turned around. Obi-Wan pulled Bilbo over to Gandalf's side to avoid the jostling and hustling dwarves. The hobbit clutched his robe in one hand tightly.

"Close ranks!" Thorin shouted. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and Gandalf nudged him with his staff as if to say 'hush.'

'It wasn't like I'm going to do anything.' He complained teasingly. Gandalf shot him an exasperated glare, to which our assassin chuckled quietly, earning a look from Lindir.

"Gandalf." An elf dismounted a steed and came forwards, an orc scimitar in his hand.

"Lord Elrond. Mellon nîn, where have you been?" Gandalf lapsed into elvish near the end, and again Obi-Wan automatically translated for Bilbo.

"We've been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the south." Elrond replied, confirming Obi-Wan's suspicions. "We slew a number near the hidden pass." He hugged the wizard and handed the scimitar to Lindir.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone has drawn them near." He finished thoughtfully.

"Ah, that may have been us." Gandalf answered ruefully.

Thorin, obviously tired of the pleasantries, walked up to the two. Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond greeted, inclining his head.

I do not believe we have met." Thorin replied with politeness barely covering the steel.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain." Elrond replied, impeccable.

"Indeed, he made no mention of you." The already-thin covering slipped. Elrond spoke in elvish once again.

"What does he say? Does he offer us insult!?" Gloin shouted, coming to the front. Obi-Wan nearly groaned. Bilbo openly sighed. Gandalf shot them both the look.

"No, master Gloin, he is offering you food." Obi-Wan spoke up calmly. Thorin shot him a glance. The dwarves huddled together, them broke apart.

"Well in that case then, lead on." He conceded gruffly. Obi-Wan brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose as Bilbo clutched his robe and Gandalf's mouth quirked slightly.

They made their way into Rivendell. "And I see you have brought two others on your journey, Mithrandir. A hobbit and another." Elrond raised an eyebrow and nodded to the two as Lindir led the dwarves away to another room. Bilbo bowed slightly and Obi-Wan swept himself into a bow as well, Jedi habits coming to the forefront once more.

"Ah, yes, this is Bilbo, my hobbit, and Dimaethor, known to the dwarves as Shadow. I asked Dimaethor on this journey for the sake of extra protection." Obi-Wan suddenly stiffened visibly as Elrond pierced him with an unreadable look.

"I welcome you, Dimaethor, ranger of the North. You are most welcome here." Elrond greeted him warmly. Gandalf looked nonplussed.

"You have met?" He asked curiously.

"No, we have not." Obi-Wan answered curtly. "I thank you, Lord Elrond." He said to the elven lord, who nodded.

"My wife, Celébrian, was returning from Lothlòrien when her group was attacked by orcs. All was seemingly lost when Dimaethor appeared and saved their group." Elrond explained to Gandalf, who nodded with a pleased look.

"Very good then." He said approvingly, as Obi-Wan felt himself stiffen even further. Why hadn't the Force warned him about this turn of events!? Bilbo looked up at him with a slightly awed look, and he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

"It was naught but my duty to do so." He said smoothly, covering his unease.

"For which I thank you. Come, I shall show you to a room in which you may stay." Lord Elrond said. Obi-Wan shifted.

"Hannon lle." The elvish felt a little odd but at the same time comfortable on his tongue. It was smooth and flowing, and the Force settled peacefully at the sound of it, like a child soothed by a lullaby.

They followed the elven lord down to their respective rooms, Bilbo with his own as well. Finally he was alone and led to a room next to the hobbit's. "May I hope to speak with you at supper, Dimaethor?" Elrond asked. Obi-Wan nodded politely.

"It would be my honor, my lord." He answered, and without farther ado the elven Lord left down the hall. The room was peaceful, filled with light from the balcony at the far end of the room, illuminating the bed and simple bedside stand with a pitcher of water.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly, and noting the location of the room so as not to forget, left the room to wander the hallways quietly, keeping to the shadows and using a Force-suggestion to mask himself as being innocuous.

He vaguely wondered what supper among elves would be like with the dwarves, and then rolled his eyes. Need he have asked such a ridiculous question? It would undoubtedly be a disaster. With a sigh, he went to find himself a place to meditate.

After a little while of wandering, he found a small, isolated room on the far side of the palace. The atmosphere was suffused with peace, and to his surprise, the Force was extremely clear here.

There was a pedestal in the middle of the frescoed walls, holding the broken shards of a sword. His eyes narrowed as he approached it, reaching out to touch it with his gloved hands. The Force was congealed around the weapon, and when he touched it and probed the Force tentatively, it refused to give him any grip on the weapon.

Instead, it turned him around to see a fresco that depicted a battle scene of a man holding up a broken sword and an armored figure arching in a paroxysm of agony. The Force suddenly drew him into the image, and despite his struggles to control the vision, he fell in. The face of the man in the painting appeared in his sight, dirty and grimy, and then changed into face after face, all obviously related to one another. Until finally it came to his leader in the Ranger's guild. And then to his wife, face tear-streaked and hand splayed over her stomach.

A few moments later found the assassin perched precariously on the stone railing of the balcony, deep in meditation over the past few day's events. The Force was utterly still, and he breathed it in. In. Out. Fill his lungs with it. Into the very bones of his body and reproduce it through the marrow. Let it become a part of him.

A niggling sense of recognition remained, however, in the room, as though sometime a long time ago he had been in this very room and sat on that very railing. He suddenly remembered the Force technique his master had tried to teach him a long time ago. He had always struggled with it, however, for he was too deeply embedded in the Unifying Force, and as a result it made trouble by running rampant.

Tai Vordax. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the timeline in this building. It was like looking into a pool of water so utterly still that it was like looking into a mirror. He peered carefully into the deeps, seeing time pass and events a blur.

He tentatively reached out his fingers and skimmed the surface, watching it ripple and invite him in to explore its depths of time and events. Jedi masters often used the method to determine guilty parties of some crime of sorts.

He had always tried to control himself while swimming in the treacherous waters, but all too often he had been sucked into the deep currents and nearly drowned because of his strong connection to the Unifying Force. He had come back to reality, jerking out of meditation and screaming until his vocal cords nearly snapped.

Even now as he plunged into the waters, he wondered if it would happen to him this time as well. He shoved the thought aside and concentrated, searching for himself, diving deeper and watching visions flash across his visions- until he reached out and grasped one.

It was himself. Younger, granted, but he was there. His younger self turned to look at his present self and grinned widely. He nearly choked. He looked so innocent- his other self waved cheerfully and promptly fell off of the railing with a thump, only to scramble back up and run to Lord Elrond who checked him over worriedly while scolding.

"Dimaethor?" A voice ripped him out of his meditative stance, making him give a start and nearly fall off of the balcony into the garden below. With a loud groan, he rubbed his temples. Getting interrupted in the middle of meditation was a sure fire way of getting a killer migraine worse then any of his poisons.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were- whatever you were doing." Bilbo looked nervous and apologetic. Obi-Wan waved a dismissive hand.

"No, it's quite alright. Did- you need something?" He asked, coming to grips with the fact that he had been there before.

Bilbo scurried over to him and steadied the swaying Jedi. "It's dinner time- are you sure you're alright?" He fussed.

Sigh. "You interrupted my meditation and as a result I will have a headache for a while. Do not concern yourself overly so, Bilbo, it has happened more times then I care to admit." Obi-Wan answered, steadying himself on the hobbit's shoulder. "I am coming."

They made their way into the halls and to the dining room where everyone was gathered. Obi-Wan had finally managed to calm himself and tamp the migraine into the Force until it was just a dulled throbbing behind his eyelids.

He had to wonder, though, as they entered the dining hall and everyone stared at the black hood and the black glove resting on the hobbit's shoulder, what would happen in this fateful dinner time.

Fateful, yes, because after all, the Force is hardly ever this devious. Then again, didn't his master always say that the Force laughed at them both for all the situations they found themselves in?


End file.
